


The Streets of Tokyo

by irusu_u3



Series: Ways to Live [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hinata suffers because Kags is complicated, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Might Add More, Multi, Psychological Torture, Slow Burn, Sorry Not Sorry, Suicide, Torture, Unreliable Narrator, characters will die okay, truly an angstfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 115,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23337457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irusu_u3/pseuds/irusu_u3
Summary: A ruined Tokyo is the safe haven to five different groups of human survivors, and they do not get along with each other.Karasuno, Aobajohsai, Nekoma, Fukurodani and Shiratorizawa.'Safe haven' may very well be a stretch.Not only do herds of Walkers keep them up at night, so do the other gangs, the unstable weather and the deaths of their friends.Life is unfair.Everyone knows, yet everyone desperately fights it.When one choice can make the difference between life and death, what are you supposed to do?Do you follow your heart, or do you follow your mind?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou, focus is on first two, oh god SemiShira has a life of its own, some are more a thing than others
Series: Ways to Live [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775488
Comments: 257
Kudos: 609





	1. Quiet Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first ever fanfiction so I'm really excited~!  
> Please be sure to read the additional tags before you start, because this fic contains sensitive topics! Anyway, enjoy!

In silence, the soft, rhythmic thuds lulled all present to feel sadness without tears. The hole in the ground was almost completely filled with dark mud again. A drop of sweat rolled down Sawamura Daichi’s face as he dumped the last heap of sand in the grave, sticking the rusty shovel in the patch of grass next to him as he stepped away.

So did Azumane Asahi.

They joined back in the half-circle with their comrades, one glance at the grave painfully reminding everyone once again of the unfairness of life.  
Every living soul in this world knows that unfairness.

Ukai Keishin was the first to slice through the doom in the air. The man was the oldest of their group, their leader, and the one who put the bullet through the boy’s head.  
“Ennoshita Chikara was one of our most treasured comrades. He was our friend, and always a beacon of hope when we needed it the most.”

Ennoshita had been bitten by a Runner. Unexpectedly, that one bite sealed his fate. In the last hour of his life, he had reassured them all that they could easily do without him-- only for Nishinoya Yuu and Hinata Shouyou to burst into tears.  
No, they couldn’t do without him, Hinata had countered.  
The group wouldn’t ever be the same without him, Nishinoya claimed.

Ennoshita just smiled, exchanging a glance with Sugawara Koushi. He was tired. It hurt. He wouldn’t be human anymore, soon.  
Lastly, a knowing nod towards Ukai.  
Everyone knew what was going to happen next, in fact, the next step was a hard rule within the group.

If a comrade is bitten, you are obligated to kill them.

In Ennoshita’s case, Suga managed to get him back to their hideout in time, right after he was bitten. To properly say goodbye, at least. Not that that made the whole situation any easier, but to Suga it had seemed like the best choice.  
He wouldn’t have let Ennoshita die like that. Not in a lonely alleyway, as if he were no better than all the Walkers they ever killed before.

Then it was time.  
Down the roads of a ruined Tokyo, their death march was peaceful, and silent. Into the woods, for a place to bury Ennoshita.  
The male was already changing, in both visible and invisible ways.

Slurring words, slumped limbs, skin decolorization.

Some of the group had to look away, when Ukai ended Ennoshita’s life.  
Hinata had to throw up. Tears rolled down Suga’s cheek, and he wasn’t alone. Noya, Asahi, Yamaguchi and Tanaka couldn’t hold them back, either.  
Nobody doubted the only possible place Ennoshita went to was Heaven.

Shimizu Kiyoko gently set down a bouquet of wildflowers, her expression not giving anything away.  
Yet everyone knew.  
Because everyone felt the same.

That was the unfairness of the life they are forced to live.

After what seemed like hours, they went back the way they came, this time without their beloved friend.  
No Walker disturbed their path.  
Right when they got back to their home, they had to force themselves to get back into the rhythm of their daily lives.  
Lingering too long in impossible ‘what if’-s and ‘if only’-s was just as much of a real danger as Walkers were.

**xxx**

Hinata breathed in, then held his breath.  
His hazel eyes focused on the nightly black bird perched on a branch high up.  
The thin thread stretched as he pulled back, aiming.

He breathed out.  
“Hinata, did you find something yet--”

The bow snapped, the arrow launched in the air. It zoomed low underneath the branch the bird was sitting, now alerted, it cried out a shrill screech before taking off.  
Hinata sighed an exasperated sigh, standing up out of the shadows of the trees. Yamaguchi’s mouth wordlessly formed an ‘o’, watching the bird fly up into the sky.

“Well,” Hinata trailed, shaking his head, “Not anymore.”

He and Yamaguchi had been scouring the forest for a couple of hours now, hunting anything that moved and that wasn’t a Walker. Neither of them had been lucky, though, save for Yamaguchi wounding a deer-- that didn’t instantly die, then proceeded to ran off. They chased it, but gave up after two hours, concluding the animal really wasn’t as mortally wounded as they hoped it would be.

The first time Hinata went into this very forest, accompanied by Daichi, he had been in awe. He didn’t know animals could be _this_ thriving in this world, or that the sun rays cast upon an old, mossy log would look _this_ beautiful.

So serene.

To Hinata, it had seemed like the forest was a whole other world, another dimension, away from bloody streets of Tokyo. He guessed that in the past, there were many more different animals, but died out simply due to humans not being the only ones to chase after fresh meat.

Walkers did too.

Walkers were driven by an uncontrollable, inhuman need to eat flesh. Flesh, mind you, that wasn’t rotting; they never took a bite out of their Walker friends.  
Human flesh, animal flesh-- that didn’t seem to matter to them.  
It was also the very reason that Walkers travelled in herds, flooding into Tokyo like waves on a beach, neverending. They were constantly looking for flesh, overrunning cities to eat everything--and everyone-- they could, then moved on to whatever was next.  
Those ‘herd floods’ could last a couple of days, to a couple of weeks. The latter occurrences are absolute disasters for Tokyo’s human residents.

“I think we should go back. . .”

Yamaguchi’s freckled face peered up at the setting sun. He didn’t voice it, but Hinata knew the other was just as frustrated with the result of a full day hunting as Hinata himself was.

“We can’t go back with empty hands!”  
“I don’t want to either! But. . .”

A soft rustling came from a bush a couple of meters away from the two. Hinata slid down back to the ground. Yamaguchi caught on, and followed his example.  
They really weren’t in a great spot as the last rays of the sun illuminated Hinata’s fiery orange hair, but they couldn’t just move either; one misplaced muscle spasm could give them away.  
“. . . aim as well, just to be sure,” Hinata muttered, as he drew back the elastic line of his bow, readying a new arrow.

A hare hopped out into the clearing, its nose exploring the scents in the air. It hadn’t noticed the pair, yet.

Hinata steadied his arm, fixating on the hare.  
He breathed in--

Out from behind the bushes the hare had been taking shelter in moments before, fell a Walker. Within seconds it sunk it’s crooked, close-to-unhinged jaw into the hare, which really didn’t stand a chance.

Hinata tumbled backwards, completely taken by surprise.  
He quickly cast a sideway glance at Yamaguchi, who seemed to be in the same boat as he was.

Neither had seen the Walker closing in on the hare.  
Neither had _heard_ the Walker.

Yamaguchi’s gaze met with Hinata’s.  
This wasn’t just a Walker, it wasn’t even a Runner. This was clearly--

“A Thinker,” Yamaguchi breathed.

Three simple names for three different categories of ‘Walker’.

Walkers were slow, easy to avoid, but dangerous in groups. Runners were faster, though not exactly ‘running’ either, and were unpredictable. Then lastly, Thinkers. Named simply due to them almost having a more human-like instinct. Thinkers tried to be quiet, or on the other hand, make noises to attract Walkers-- it’s even been seen Thinkers could deliberately corner and trap someone.

Hinata wouldn’t call Thinkers smart, but they were certainly a cut above the other two categories.

Thinkers were truly as ominous as the creatures could get.

Arguably also as dangerous as they could get.

The Thinker continued to feast on the hare, now reduced to a bloody mess of flesh with the occasional tuft of fur. Backing away in unison, the two young hunters kept a close eye on the Thinker.  
Seconds later they were sprinting away from the clearing, the rush of adrenaline soaring through their veins, after unconsciously having held their breaths.

“Oh good lord above,” Hinata shuddered, the image of the Thinker and the hare burnt into his mind. He didn’t often come across a Thinker, but every time he did, it instilled fear into Hinata on a deeper level than Walkers or Runners did.

“Why-- why did only the two of us have to hunt again--”  
Yamaguchi was right at Hinata’s side, huffing and panting.

“Ukai-- thought it was a good idea.”

“It’s clearly _not_.”

Hinata almost toppled over when they reached the edge of the forest, where overgrown grass made way for grey asphalt and debris. If there was one thing in life Hinata was confident in, it was his speed and stamina.  
Looking up in relief, Tokyo’s lone skyscrapers loomed over them, in all its ruined glory.

Yamaguchi bent forwards, trying to catch his breath, leaning on a larger piece of debris overgrown with moss. With his hair stuck to his face, he occasionally stole a glance back into the forest behind them.  
Yet another situation that neither will forget, added to the already gigantic library of traumatic memories.

“I just want to get home,” Yamaguchi mumbled, “At this rate, I’m going to get a heart attack one day, you’ll see.”  
Hinata wholeheartedly agreed with his first statement.

“. . . But you noticed too, right? There really was a lack of animals, Tanaka wasn’t kidding.”

Yamaguchi nodded, as the two of them crossed a street, still hyper aware of their surroundings.

The last Walker herd had left a couple of days earlier, but there were always stragglers who stayed behind. Besides, Hinata and Yamaguchi’s group weren’t the only survivors.  
Karasuno was only one of five different groups of humans living in Tokyo, and they didn’t exactly have a peaceful relationship with each other either.

Which was dumb, in Hinata’s opinion, because weren’t they all humans?

Then again, he wasn’t _that_ naive.  
Not every human had good intentions. There was also the problem of limited resources, of course.

“Ugh, Ukai’s going to lecture us though. . .”  
“If he’s gonna get all fussy because there aren’t enough animals to hunt to begin with-- honestly, it’s not our fault,” Hinata concluded, “We’re not deer whisperers.”

Aside from the pair, the streets of Tokyo were quiet.  
Neither of them were talking anymore, exhaustion of a full day hunting, and the unexpected marathon running from a Thinker, finally sunk into their bodies.

In silences like these, Hinata loves to imagine how this gigantic city looked like before the Walkers. A lot of lights, a lot of sounds, a lot of people. He can picture them walking on the sidewalks, eating food, laughing, talking.

Maybe they could time travel?

Teleport?

Magical powers?

No, Hinata realised, if they could time travel, they could’ve prevented these rotting undead meatbags from ever appearing.

Tokyo is now nothing more than a city of ghosts.

Remnants of technology were hard to find, as the gangs living in the city had long stripped it clean of anything remotely useful. Stores were empty, windows were broken, and scraps of useless metal and debris littered the streets.

After quietly inching further into the city, Hinata and Yamaguchi had to start squeezing through tighter alleyways.  
The tangled mess of alleyways in this part of the city used to feel like a maze, though at this point, Hinata knows the layout like the back of his hand. Which turn to take, dead ends, detours, the quickest way back--

Hidden deep into that maze, is their home, their hideout. It looks just as battered and broken as any other building in the neighbourhood.  
However, it was obvious why Ukai had chosen this one so long ago, when he ended up stranded in Tokyo with a handful of fellow survivors.

It was the old building of an orphanage.

It stood taller than the other houses, a strong metal fence surrounding the property. There always hung a deep sense of loss around the orphanage, but as time passed, Hinata had gotten desensitized to it.  
Ukai had to explain what an orphanage was to them. He, Kiyoko and Tsukishima were the only ones with the slight capability to read, but even then, the latter two had no idea what an orphanage would be. Children running around the hallways, laughing, playing together, hoping to one day get adopted into a new family.

Something had happened in that orphanage, something horrible, but they never found any trace of what exactly made the previous inhabitants leave.

As they approached the large, mansion-like building, Tanaka waved cheerfully at them from the other side of the fence, the safe side. He pushed aside the wooden barricade preventing the gate from being opened from the outside; it was a makeshift amalgamation of sharpened wooden sticks, pieces of wood and metal that kept the gate in its place, and it wouldn’t budge an inch unless the barricade was completely removed.

With a soft screech of the metal scraping against the ground, Tanaka pushed the gate open, his grin radiating a kind of ease that made everyone appreciate him, despite the antics he and Noya got up to sometimes.

“Empty-handed, huh?”

“Don’t remind us. . .” Yamaguchi sighed, “We got pretty close, but it seemed like you were actually right about less animals than usual.”

Hinata groaned softly as he longingly looked up the building, eagerly wanting to take a nap. He knew, he’d first have to get lectured by Ukai, and then probably by Daichi, and the icing of the cake would be Tsukishima’s sneering insults.

“I knew it!”

Tanaka seemed to be proud about his lack-of-animals observation, even though it shouldn’t really be something to feel pride for.  
“You gotta testify about it with me, that’ll show Ukai, the non-believer.”

“We’re all non-believers in your case, cause half the time you spout utter nonsense.”  
Leaning against the doorframe stood Daichi, his dark brown eyes observing the three walking up.  
“But if even Yamaguchi agrees, this may be the other half of the time.”

“Hey!” Hinata had picked up on that very subtle jab, staring up at Dachi with his cheeks puffed out, “I agreed too, I never spout nonsense either, I’m trustworthy too!”

Daichi just laughed as he let them pass, closing the door behind him.

The moment Hinata entered the safe space of the orphanage, all tension disappeared and melted off of him.  
The orphanage was their home, their hideout and their fortress. No Walker ever managed to get past the fence; not that a Walker ever entered the vicinity of the neighbourhood they were in, but still.

That just meant it was well hidden.

The building itself had multiple floors, though they didn’t use half of the rooms. When the group first arrived years ago, they did board up most broken windows, simply because the weather throughout the whole year was extreme on all fronts, and could change from a sunny, hot day to neverending gallons of rain the next.

In a wide, open room on the ground floor, some of the group were relaxing on the old yet comfortable couches they got from multiple floors.  
There was a small fire burning in the hearth, sparks flying every now and then.

Having a fire meant smoke, which in turn meant the probability of their hideout being found by one of the other groups, but it was a risk they had to take. Nights were always cold, and the fire was an absolute necessity. 

Besides using it for warmth, they also used it for cooking.

Noya sounded a war cry when he saw Tanaka, and the small male jumped up from his lounge chair, itching with an unearthly energy Hinata only came close to on his own best days.  
Ukai nor Tsukishima were anywhere to be found, luckily for Hinata and Yamaguchi, though the latter had already disappeared to somewhere.

Daichi went to join Suga on the light brown couch on the far left.

Suga hadn’t been his usual self ever since the death of Ennoshita, and everyone suspected he somehow managed to blame himself for it. Suga was with Ennoshita when he got bitten, but nobody-- not even Ennoshita himself-- had blamed him for it.

Daichi murmured something and made Suga chuckle, the silver-haired man then proceeded to lean against Daichi’s shoulder, closing his eyes.

Kiyoko comfortably sat close to the fire with a tattered book in her hands, her eyes slowly moving across the pages.

She didn’t look up when the four of them entered the room, completely absorbed in the story.

For now, their lives were fine. They still had a good amount of meat, fruits and even some vegetables from Asahi’s little garden behind the orphanage, of which he took great care of.  
It probably kept the man sane as well.

Hinata flopped down on the remaining couch, laying on his stomach with his face turned into the direction of the fireplace, feeling a little bit of the warmth creeping on his body.  
His mind instantly made a loop back to the Thinker situation earlier.

It wasn’t the first time he’d come across one of them, but never in the forest. He’d always thought the forest was a relatively safe space; they could hear the occasional stray Walker from miles away in the quiet of the woods, Runners gave themselves away just as fast, and Thinkers tended to stay close to the city.

That last part was one of Tsukishima’s observations. 

Everyone had some way to cope with the very struggle of being alive, as depressing as that may sound.  
Asahi had his garden, Kiyoko liked to read, Noya and Tanaka often kept guard outside and fool around, Tsukishima appeared to like watching and observing Walkers-- from a safe distance, of course-- Yamaguchi followed Tsukishima around, Suga and Daichi often went to explore the Walker-free areas in their territory, and Ukai collected little knick-knacks that had no apparent worth at all.

Hinata, meanwhile. . . always had a difficult time, whenever he wasn’t out hunting or scavenging. For sure, the orphanage made him feel safe, and he was thankful for their situation, but it felt like something was missing.  
He longed for a challenge, something new, that didn’t involve potentially being eaten alive by groaning corpses.

“Did anything interesting happen on the hunt?”

Of course, Ukai just had to come back downstairs right then and there.  
Hinata just moved his head, glancing at the older man entering the room from the corner of his eyes.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘interesting’ more so than ‘terrifying’,” Hinata replied, half his face mashed into the couch.  
“Just when we had our eyes on a hare, a Thinker showed up and snatched it right out from under our noses.”

He saw he had Daichi and Kiyoko’s attention now, too.

“Didn’t even hear the asshole,” Hinata added.

Ukai hummed to himself as he approached Hinata’s couch, sitting down on the other end.  
“A Thinker straying into the forest, huh. . .”

“Yeah, we left immediately after that. Also, Tanaka wasn’t lying about the amount of animals.”

Ukai closed his eyes, thinking with a frown adorning his expression.  
“That’s going to be a real problem, then. For now, we have enough food for the next week or so, but. . .”

Finally Daichi joined the conversation as well.  
“Maybe it had to do with the last herd? There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, Tsukishima can confirm, but perhaps. . .”

“. . . perhaps we’re finally seeing the results of Walkers eating every breathing thing alive,” Suga finished dryly, his eyes open, awake and focused on Ukai.  
“It’s not that weird that even animals that always thrived are finally taking a hit.”

The group had dealt with life-threatening emergencies many times before, but those emergencies had all been caused by temporary forces.  
Once, the river they took their water from was jammed shut by logs and branches-- and one single Walker body-- due to a heavy storm from the week before. It had been easily solvable, simply by working one day together to remove the garbage, and the stream continued to flow.

They even dealt with a decrease in animals before, only to discover some weirdly mutated animal had been killing deers with excessive speed.  
Two days it took to hunt it down, and kill it.

Suga stood up from the couch, and smiled his beloved smile that healed Hinata’s soul. The words that followed made this whole day somehow worth it.

“Alright, who’s ready for some deer meat?”

Hinata surprisingly did not get a lecture from anyone that day.

**xxx**

The next morning, Hinata practically rolled down the stairs in excitement. He’d just gotten out of bed, but this day was a day he’d been waiting for a while to come now.  
A little while ago, Suga and Daichi agreed to let Hinata come with them on one of their excursions, after Hinata had asked about it.  
Noya and Asahi were on hunting duty today-- though the ‘hunting’ part was mostly done by Noya, Asahi got squeamish just thinking about killing animals-- but Asahi had always been perceptive about the locations of animals, and besides, he had to keep Noya from making too much noise.

“Suga!” Hinata beamed with energy, and the grin on his face made the addressed male smile back at him.

“Yes, yes~ Daichi’s just packing up some food, so we can have a fun picnic along the way,” Suga said, his slender fingers gently ruffling through Hinata’s hair.  
“Be sure to bring your bow with you, by the way. We may be looking for Walker-free places to explore, but that doesn’t mean we won’t meet them along the way.”

The only ones beside Hinata and Suga in the room were Kiyoko and Tsukishima. It was still early in the morning, yet Noya and Asahi were already gone. Both Yamaguchi and Tanaka loved sleeping in, and Ukai-- well, nobody knew what that man was up to most of the time.

He’d always lead them with the best of his abilities.

“. . . okay, I’m all set.”

Out of a room further down the hallway came Daichi, a lightweight, small backpack strapped on his back. He had a gun tied to his belt, one of the two guns in possession of Karasuno. The weapons themselves were a rarity, even more so working ones, and even more so ammunition.

“Hinata, you ready?”

“Yessir! Where are we going?!”

“To the skyscrapers on the other side of the main road. Me and Daichi have been there before, but today we’re going to venture a bit further,” Suga said as he lead the way to the front door.  
He pushed it open, and the sun rays cast a silver glow on his hair, kissing his pale skin.

Moments like these reminded Hinata of how beautiful the young man was, with the beauty mark underneath his eye and slim, yet strong body.

Both Suga and Daichi were more or less parental figures to Hinata, more than Ukai ever was.   
Hinata had been taken in by Karasuno somewhere around age 10-- they had guessed that number, nobody remembered their exact ages-- and ever since, the two older men doted on the little ball of sunshine that was Hinata.  
Though at that point in time, both Suga and Daichi were much younger than they were now, they still taught him everything he needed to know. 

And young Hinata latched right onto them.

Hinata bounced outside after Suga, helping Daichi pushing the barricade out of the way. There were no chirping of birds or the fluttering of leaves in the wind like in the forest; Tokyo was eerily quiet.  
But Hinata knew that underneath the quiet mask, the city was bustling with action.

At this very moment, for all he knew, a gang war could be going on anywhere in the city between any of the other groups.

**xxx**

“Iwa-chan!”

A loud whisper shook the male out of his wandering state of mind.  
Chocolate eyes bore holes into the back of Iwaizumi’s head, he knew, without even looking back at the owner of those eyes.

“Don’t doze off in a situation like this, Iwa-chan! It’s very serious!”

Well, Oikawa wasn’t wrong.  
Soft tapping of metal against metal signalled how impatient his partner felt, the barrel of his gun tapping against the crooked pole on the corner of the street. A vague, dull color of red coated the sign on top of said pole, once a stop sign.

Iwaizumi licked his bottom lip, the tension in the air palpable.  
The two were waiting on another two of their comrades, who had been gone for two days now, after patrolling the borders of Aobajohsai’s territory.

The border with Shiratorizawa.

“You shouldn’t have sent them there,” Iwaizumi grumbled, “You and I both knew it was a bad idea.”

“I-- Shiratorizawa’s been honing in on our territory slowly but surely, they’re cutting off our resources!” Oikawa hissed, “I needed to see how far they dared worm their way in this time!”

Iwaizumi groaned; he knew to choose his battles wisely with Oikawa, and this one wasn’t worth it.  
Both were concerned for their friends, and Iwaizumi was pretty sure their leader already regretted sending them near Shiratorizawa.

Oikawa harbored enormous hate towards the top gang of Tokyo. And he wasn’t alone.  
All of Aobajohsai had felt losses by Shiratorizawa’s hands.  
The hate wasn’t even limited to Aobajohsai only.

Nekoma and Fukurodani were right behind them.

Yet for years with no end in sight, Shiratorizawa ruled Tokyo. They owned the biggest territory, the best weapons, best hunting grounds, and had the most efficient members.

Oikawa had been invited to join Shiratorizawa, long ago.  
Ushijima asked him to forsake Aobajohsai.  
To forsake his friends.

To forsake Iwaizumi Hajime.

With no hesitation, Oikawa had rejected his offer.  
Aobajohsai was his pride, and he would lead them through hell and back if he had to.

That did cost him a knife in his shoulder, but that was fine.

It later created a scar, a scar associated with loyalty.

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes at a figure in the distance, a soft nudge against Oikawa’s arm.One person.  
Not the two they were hoping for.

“Is that. . .” Oikawa trailed, taking a few steps into the direction of the faraway figure.

“. . . Yahaba,” Iwaizumi breathed softly, and almost simultaneously, he and Oikawa started sprinting along the road, jumping over and dodging blocks and pieces of debris as they did.

Iwaizumi kept a close eye on their surroundings, but Oikawa didn’t care.  
They both knew Yahaba had to have been through _something_ bad.

Especially if he was alone.

The closer they got to him, the better they saw how he limped, how his clothes were soaked in blood, how his arm was hanging along his body in a weird way.

“For fucks sake!” Oikawa cried out, somehow speeding up just a bit more, his strong legs powering through.

Only when they stood in front of Yahaba, the other noticed them. Oikawa cupped the male’s face, peering into his eyes.  
“What. . . what happened?”

He wrapped one arm around his comrade’s waist, heaving Yahaba’s arm on his own shoulder. Iwaizumi did the same on his other side, supporting him as they moved back the way Oikawa and Iwaizumi had come from, on their way to their base.

“Shido. . . ‘s dead,” Yahaba murmured, limping along as best as he could. He didn’t seem to be losing blood himself at the moment, though the older blood in his clothes obscured that judgement somewhat.

“That bowl cut motherfucker. . . Goshiki. Killed him.”

Yahaba spit out those words, uneven breaths, anger coursing through his entire body.

Iwaizumi stared out into the distance, not saying a word.  
Another friend dead, by none other than Shiratorizawa of all things.

Again.

“Oikawa, I told you!” he then barked at the man opposite of him, continuing to look forward, “This is your fault, _Shittykawa_!”  
Iwaizumi wasn’t going to hold back any punches toward their leader. Not that he ever did, but. . .

Oikawa should’ve known better.

He expected some form of protest, but none came.

“. . . I’m sorry, Yahaba,” Oikawa said, Iwaizumi couldn’t read the expression on his face, “You didn’t. . . I’m sorry you had to experience that, I. . .”

“We were being dumb,” Yahaba interrupted, his throat dry and breathing _hurt_ , “We weren’t alert or cautious. It’s not. . .”

“No need to excuse yourself,” Iwaizumi said, “Let’s just. . . goddamnit. Let’s just get back. You’re almost falling apart. We’ll talk later.”

Silent agreement.  
Silent. . . until two gunshots echoed between the buildings, the sound traveling through the street and reaching the three of Aobajohsai.

Oikawa glanced over his shoulder, weary.  
Shiratorizawa was unpredictable.  
They had members on their team that were unpredictable.

Cruel.

Nothing they did was on accident.

“. . . those weren’t aimed at us,” Iwaizumi mumbled, re-adjusting his grip on Yahaba a bit, shifting weight.

Oikawa frowned, swallowing, “That’s exactly what’s concerning me.”

They continued on, and nothing happened for a while. They almost reached the end of the wide road, from there on out, they still had a bit to go, but it would be easier as they were less in the open.That’s when Oikawa’s keen ears picked up on something behind them. 

He almost couldn’t believe it.

But he knew he was right.  
He was trained to listen to those noises.

His eyes widened ever so slightly, and he froze in place.

“What is it?” Iwaizumi grumpily questioned why Oikawa stopped in his tracks.

“Iwa-chan, we have to run. We have to run, _we have to run_ \--”

“Why?! What are you talking about, spit it out!”

Oikawa looked behind them, Iwaizumi did the same. In the split second their eyes met, Iwaizumi saw pure, unfiltered _fear_.  
Oikawa was by no means a coward.

If he was afraid, then. . .

Iwaizumi saw it too.

A sea of Walkers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	2. Sunny Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the second chapter, already out!  
> I'm a pretty fast writer when in the right mood.
> 
> Have fun! From here on out, things are gonna go down slowly bit by bit!

“Don’t run too far ahead!” Suga called out, fondly yet with a stern undertone.  
Really, Hinata was such a handful sometimes.

Suga and Daichi usually went on these kind of small-scale expeditions with just the two of them, but Hinata’s puppy eyes were irresistible when he asked if he could join them once.  
Suga didn’t need a map anymore to venture through Tokyo, he knew their territory like nobody else in their group.  
He and Daichi had discovered quite some useful places and objects together. They once stumbled across a library, which was completely abandoned and most books were destroyed, but they managed to save a few.

Those books now serve to entertain the few people who could read in Karasuno.

Another time they found the skeletal remains of a family-- which was a considerably less enjoyable experience than when they found the library-- in one of the few boarded up houses.  
Skeletal remains were rare, believe it or not, due to the harsh weather all year long.  
But these had been well preserved.  
The family had kept a diary, which told of their memories and sufferings, and was now part of their book collection. It had given them insight on earlier days of life in this world, too.

The alleyway maze was going to be the most boring part of their travel, as most of Karasuno travelled through them near daily.  
The main road that came after, was more interesting.  
It was the wide street that ran almost straight through Tokyo, it gave them a broad view, shops and almost unrecognizable car wrecks, and a combination of both-- a crashed car into a shop window.  
Towering skyscrapers.   
Rusted poles, some bent in half, and something Suga couldn’t exactly place; some places on the street had vague remnants of white paint.

But most importantly, Walkers could be seen a mile away.

It was common knowledge that it was quite inefficient to actually try and kill a Walker. They were slow, loud, and could easily be dodged by simply walking around them. Even a herd, albeit they were completely formed of Walkers and devoid of Runners and Thinkers, could be avoided by just walking away in a steady pace. Herds did mean that they completely blocked the path through, so all you can do is walk away as far from them as possible, and hide somewhere where they couldn’t reach.  
None of the undead could jump, they were clumsy, and easily misled.

Now, if it were truly as easy as that, nobody would be dying to them.

There was always a risk of unexpected behavior.  
A Walker could turn out to be Runner, a Walker could turn out to be Thinker.  
Visually, there are no differences between any of them.  
A herd occasionally split into multiple groups if their path was narrow.  
A Walker could spasm and gain a few steps, misdirect or change course.

Then possibly the most dangerous kind of unexpected behavior.

One could manipulate Walkers by sound.  
They were attracted to it, they followed it.  
Sounds meant something was alive to make those sounds.

This concept was something that did Karasuno almost in, once.

Their neighbours, Nekoma, accidentally lead a herd right back into Karasuno territory, just after that very herd left a day ago.  
Those next few days had been extremely difficult, dealing with the herd a second time.  
Back then, when Nekoma and Karasuno were still on familiar terms, their leader Kuroo had apologized in person, knowing that they more or less fucked Karasuno over-- on accident, he had sworn to them.

Suga inhaled the scent of an early morning.  
It smelled of moss and wet grass and leaves, for a moment, until the putrid smell of rotting flesh overwhelmed his nose.  
Far away, somewhere in the heart of Tokyo, he saw a flock of the nightly black crows ascend into the sky. They’d most likely been scared off by some Walker, Suga noted.

Hinata balanced on a misshapen pole that was bent near the bottom, laying horizontally across the pavement, as he waited for Suga and Daichi to catch up.  
Daichi wasn’t talking much; mornings were definitely not his favorite time of the day, but he’d make it work for Suga.

Daichi yawned, earning him a playful jab in his side from his companion, a tiny mischievous spark in Suga’s eyes.  
The latter received Daichi’s fake glare head-on, laughing.

“Don’t be so stuck up, you! With Hinata with us, we’ll never be in trouble,” Suga stated, increasing his speed a bit to finally catch up with Hinata.  
“Hinata, jump of trust!”

Having reached the end of the pole, Hinata jumped with no hesitation into Suga’s open arms, grinning.  
Of course, Suga caught him and swirled him around, before setting the smaller male steadily back down.

Daichi looked on with a satisfied expression, though he didn’t realise he was showing one, humming softly.  
They really did look like a family together.

Hinata had given both Suga and Daichi a purpose when he was adopted into the group.

Daichi remembers just as vividly, that day they found that small, starving child among the rubbish, hiding away.  
The child couldn’t have been a native to Tokyo, he had to have travelled here, with a group, no question-- but nothing was left of said group.  
It took half a day and the combined efforts of him, Suga and Ukai for Hinata to finally take Suga’s hand and trust them.  
Daichi was something like fourteen years old at the time, Suga fifteen.

He saw how Suga almost immediately treated Hinata literally as his own child, putting up with his crying, whining, dangerous antics and disobedience; but also witness his smiles, taught him new things, watched him discover.

It was a turning point in all of their lives, the moment Hinata’s small hand took Suga’s larger one.

The two in front of him had started to talk vividly to each other, Daichi occasionally picking up a ‘gwah’ and a ‘wooh’ from Hinata, who waved his arms around frantically as he talked.  
A Walker lazily made its way towards them from a fair distance away, nobody paid any mind to it.

Past the skyscrapers they went, and once again, the streets began to split and narrow and multiply in all different directions.

“Only a little bit further,” Daichi called out, just for the sake of it, “We last went into that skyscraper with the long double car thing rammed into it.”  
Indeed, it wasn’t just a car-- it had many (broken) windows, many (ripped out) seats, and was very rectangular.  
The wheels were gone.

Suga gave him a thumbs up, then became distracted again when Hinata stared at the remnants of the bus in awe.  
Something like this wasn’t littered all along the main road like cars were.  
Suga stifled a laugh as Hinata tried to peek into through a window, jumping up and down.

“Come on,” Suga cooed, “You can check it out on the way back, okay?”  
Hinata nodded, reluctant, resembling a dejected puppy, and returned to Suga and Daichi’s side.

“Past here. . . is unknown land. Who knows what surprises we may find~”  
“ _Welcome_ surprises, please and thank you.”

Hinata’s body coursed with anticipation as they walked past the next row of gigantic skyscrapers, practically skipping on his feet.  
There was much less debris and leftover metal garbage than closer to the main road, however. . .

“Oh my god,” Suga gasped softly, his eyes wide open as he took in the sight.  
“Something this cool was hiding beyond that stupid long car all this time?!”

“The long car falls into nothingness in comparison,” Daichi agreed, just as amazed.

“B-but what is it. . .?” Hinata wondered, more so to himself, not expecting an answer. He was certain neither Suga nor Daichi knew, anyway, judging by their reactions.

Behind the initial skyscrapers where the two older men had gone to previously, stood yet another row of the gigantic buildings.  
One was in a near perfect condition compared to all the other skyscrapers, whose glass windows were broken and floors and ceilings had given away.

But there was one fatal flaw, which was simultaneously also the cause of their awe, excitement and wonder.

Somewhere along the fifth, sixth and seventh floor, in the right side of the skyscraper, a gigantic plane had plummeted straight into it.  
One of its wings had broken in half and rested on the very ground beneath, the front of the plane completely soaked up into the skyscraper.

Hinata was surprised the building still stood as tall as it did and hadn’t collapsed yet.

Jumping up and down, he squeaked in excitement, and felt a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.  
Curiosity, longing to discover, to see-- what was that thing?  
Hinata quickly concluded it could probably fly, seeing how it had crashed higher up, far higher than the long car.

“It could fly!”

He repeated his thoughts out loud, approaching the building.

“Oh, maybe you’re right,” Daichi nodded, considering it, “But how? It looks heavy. . .”

Suga offered his own ideas, “Maybe those things on its side are wings? You wouldn’t expect those fat black crows to fly either, but they can, so maybe this thing could as well. Flapping up and down~”  
To illustrate, Suga flapped his arms up and down.

“You look ridiculous,” Daichi pointed out, “But also-- Hinata!”

His yell of pure authority that sow terror and fright among members of Karasuno echoed between the skyscrapers, and Hinata stopped dead in his tracks.  
“Don’t stand underneath that goddamn thing! It could still collapse any moment!”

While Suga and Daichi watched the sight from afar, Hinata had inched closer to the broken wing, even _daring_ to touch it, standing right underneath the back of the plane that stuck out.  
“But. . .” Hinata mumbled, running his hand up and down the broken wing, touching the icy cold steel in admiration.

“. . . it could fly.”

He went back quickly though, not wanting to test Daichi, eyeing the plane from afar again.

“What a discovery,” Suga voiced what all three were thinking, “We definitely haven’t seen anything like this before.”

“. . . Do you think there were people inside? When it crashed, I mean. . .”  
“Such a depressing thought! But. . . yes? Maybe?”

“We won’t know until we go up the skyscraper, and take a look--” Hinata tried, but was quickly shut down.

“No way. Too dangerous, those floors are already unstable enough due to that thing crashing into it.”

“Hey, how do we tell the others about this?”

“Steel bird,” Hinata said, “Let’s tell them it’s a large, steel bird.”  
“We don’t know for sure if it could actually fly--”

Confident, “It could. It did fly. It’s a large, steel bird.”

Daichi threw his hands in the air, “Right, right. The particularly critical ones among Karasuno may not believe us, though.”

“You can just say you mean _Stingyshima_.”

After a few more minutes of simply watching, Suga decided it was time for some snacks, and went behind Daichi to open the little backpack.  
Hinata had gone near the skyscraper again, but far away from the plane this time. He leaned against a glass window, trying to peer inside, but it was far too dirty. 

He rubbed the glass with his sleeve, dirt and sand clinging to his clothing.  
With his hands on both sides of his head, stuck to the window, Hinata tried again.

It was mostly dark, due to the plane hovering over and blocking the sun, but few sun rays managed to shine past, lighting the inside.  
He saw the floor was littered with papers, a fallen over desk, flower pots and old blood.

. . . Blood?

Hinata narrowed his eyes, concentrating as his eyes slowly got used to the darkness inside the room.  
A bony, bloody hand slammed right against the glass where Hinata had his face plastered against, and seconds later, the melted eyes of a Walker stared right into Hinata’s hazel ones.

With a scream Hinata stepped back and fell down on his ass, a sharp pain running up his spine, his hand covering his heart.   
His whole body trembled in shock, a whimper escaping his lips.

From his place on the ground he stared up into the window, frozen in place as the Walker continued to slam against the window.

A few seconds later, both Suga and Daichi were at his side, helping him up, then following Hinata’s gaze towards the Walker.

“. . . that answers the question if that plane had people in it, then.”  
“How morbid. . ..”

“Are you okay, Hinata?”  
Suga gently rubbed the younger male’s back, effectively calming Hinata down.

“I. . .” Hinata started, taking a deep breath, “I’m fine. That. . . really, really gave me a scare. . .”  
He almost felt like throwing up, but managed to keep it inside after taking some more deep breaths.

Suga handed him a bottle of water from Daichi’s bag, freshly filtered yesterday, and Hinata gratefully took a big gulp.  
“Okay, I’m fine,” he nodded, more convincingly than before.

Moving away from the skyscraper, Hinata nibbled on a cold, roasted piece of meat from the backpack. Sure, it wasn’t as delicious as freshly cooked, but he wouldn’t complain.

In the distance, they heard two distinct gunshots.  
It was far away, and the sound had considerably dulled down before it reached their ears, but they knew.

“Might be Aobajohsai,” Daichi mumbled, biting into a red apple, “Or Shiratorizawa, of course. . .”  
Those two gangs owned the most working guns and pistols, which helped them become top groups of Tokyo.

“Nothing to concern ourselves with,” Suga added, “They’re always at each other’s throats.”

Karasuno was clearly the most passive group out of all five.  
Ukai didn’t want to concern himself with any of the other groups, making neither enemies nor allies.

It was different in the past.  
Nekoma used to be their ally.  
But one day, in the middle of a particularly harsh week. . .

 _“Kuroo? What the hell are you doing?!”  
_ _“We need these supplies, Daichi. I’m sorry.”  
_ _“You’re going to betray us for extra supplies?!”  
_ _“He’s dying, Daichi. Kenma is dying.”  
_ _“We also-- Takeda is dying, too! We all need those meds!”  
_ _“I’m sorry.”  
_ _“You can’t! You can’t do this, Kuroo! We are allies, we--”_

**_“I’m sorry.”_ **

Without those important, medical supplies, Takeda Ittetsu died two days later.  
Ukai immediately severed their bond with Nekoma, branding them traitors.

“Hinata, say ‘aah’!”  
“Aah~”

Hinata chomped down on a piece of apple Suga fed him.   
A picnic next to a crashed _steel bird_ in the middle of their territory wasn’t something Daichi thought would be a very realistic or possible scenario five years ago, but here they were nonetheless.

Breaks in between Walker masses running over Tokyo were relatively peaceful, and they were prime times to hunt, scavenge and discover.  
Sure, the streets weren’t completely empty, but the Walkers left behind were the weaker ones from the previous herd, and weren’t ever a problem.

“Tsukishima predicted the next Walker herd would be here in around four days,” Daichi hummed, “So Ukai’s probably going to increase hunting drastically for the next few days, especially now that, you know. . .”  
Daichi absentmindedly picked out the apple seeds from the core, collecting them in a tiny plastic container, as requested by Asahi.

“Me and Yams only found a deer, a crow, a hare and according to him, also a squirrel,” Hinata said, “In a whole day hunting.”  
“I guess Mother Nature is kind of fed up with us.”

“Now, now. There might be a very reasonable explanation behind the decreased amount of animals. Just like that one time before,” Daichi attempted to not only convince them, but also himself, that this was just one of those flukes.

Another gunshot in the distance.  
But it was definitely closer than the two from before.

“. . . You know what, I think we might have to cut our family day out short,” Suga decided, leveraging himself against the wall of the building behind him to stand up, and dusted off his pants.

Daichi nodded, Hinata pouted.

“Those gunshots are attracting Walkers, and we don’t want to be caught up a mini herd,” Daichi said, specifically to Hinata, who sighed in defeat.

“Alright, fine. But that does mean you have to let me tag along again, because I did not get the full Suga-Daichi-Excursion experience I was promised.”  
Hinata snatched the bag from the ground, swinging it on his back, smiling his best mischievous smile.

“You-- god, fine. It’ll probably be after the next herd comes around though,” Daichi grumbled, shaking his head in fake disapprovement.  
“And don’t eat too much from the bag,” he added, just as Hinata snuck out another piece of meat.

“Goodbye, Steel Bird! See ya next time!”

**xxx**

“They used Yahaba as a trap,” Oikawa hissed, glancing back every now and then.  
“They knew we’d come for him.”

“Of course we would,” Iwaizumi replied in a calm manner, despite his heart rate spiking over and over again, his brains working overtime to deal with what he just saw behind them.  
“We’re not like them, we don’t abandon our comrades.”

Yahaba himself wasn’t saying anything, he had to use all his remaining energy to try and limb along faster. His chapped lips were cut and dry, his head spun.  
Oikawa had come for him.  
He’d trusted he would, and he was rewarded.  
Exhausted, Yahaba barely listened to anything the other two on his side were saying, but he did realise that next to him, Iwaizumi was panicking in silence.

“Iwa-chan. . .”  
“No.”

Iwaizumi already knew what he was going to say, and he didn’t want to hear it.  
Oikawa’s eyes truly were the windows to not only his soul, but also his mind.  
Iwaizumi saw the cogwheels turning in their leader’s head.

“We won’t reach our home in time.”  
“We will.”  
“The Runners are already catching up to us.”  
“They aren’t.”

Iwaizumi was stubborn, and he knew that of himself. But so was Oikawa.

“All three of us are going to die like this.”  
“We won’t.”  
“Iwa-chan.”  
“No.”

“ _Hajime_.”

Iwaizumi’s head snapped to meet Oikawa’s gaze, glaring at him along Yahaba’s slumped shoulders.

They had reached the end of the road, back at the old stop sign on the corner.  
The Walkers were halfway down the road, coming for them.

_Coming for them._

Iwaizumi couldn’t even see the end of the herd, it was that thickly packed.  
Then he felt Yahaba’s weight shift, and suddenly he was the only one keeping the wounded male standing.  
Oikawa patted the gun on his hip, as if to say, he’d be fine as long as he had that weapon.

“Take Yahaba back to the camp. I have 5 rounds.”

“What are you even saying. . .” Iwaizumi protested, already feeling tired thinking about the consequences Oikawa’s idea was going to have.

“I’m going to reuse Shiratorizawa’s trap tactic to lead these Walkers away. We’ve done it before, on smaller scales, remember?” Oikawa said, his expression completely serious, “It’s either all three of us die here by Walkers, or you get yourself and Yahaba home, and I will be back in give or take, three days, after leading this never ending sea into another gang’s territory.”

Iwaizumi kept silent.

“I’ll be back. Three days,” Oikawa repeated.

Not a word.   
Oikawa wasn’t going to survive this time. Again and again, Oikawa’s ridiculous ideas had proven to be worthwhile, but Iwaizumi simply couldn’t believe his leader could survive this one.

“I think, I hope, that I might be able to distract something like seventy percent of them. Naturally, those are mostly seventy percent from the front lines, giving you enough time to get home safely as the thirty percent from the back has to catch up.”

“Where. . . are you going to lead them towards. . .”  
Iwaizumi really wasn’t feeling this one.

“To who do you think? We haven’t heard of _them_ for months now, pretty sure they’re all already dead. They’re also furthest away from our base,” Oikawa stated, growing more confident as he explained more of his plan.

“You’re going to _die_.”  
“Iwa-chan! Don’t be so melodramatic!”

They already lost two of their group in the past month; Kageyama Tobio hadn’t come back after a day of hunting, and now Shido Heisuke was killed by Shiratorizawa.

Iwaizumi finally looked up to meet Oikawa’s casual smile again. It wasn’t like he could actually stop Oikawa, it was already too late for that.  
Besides. . . he wasn’t _wrong_.

But Iwaizumi was against it for more personal reasons.

Seeing that look in Oikawa’s eyes though. . .  
He looked away.

“You’re crazy,” he finally uttered, “Yahaba, hey? Let’s go. It’s not that far anymore.”

Oikawa smiled, satisfied that Iwaizumi finally gave in to him.  
“Don’t worry, Iwa-chan. I’m Aobajohsai’s beloved leader, it’s my duty to keep everyone safe.”

It remained a mystery to Iwaizumi how Oikawa had almost two different sides to him.  
He could be so very childish, but at rare moments like these, it was perfectly obvious why Oikawa had become their leader.  
Oikawa became lonely easily. He whined. He demanded. He was cunning. But. . .

One last sigh of disagreement slipped from Iwaizumi’s lips.

“I swear to god, _Shittykawa_ , if you die. . .” he glared, heaving Yahaba up on his shoulders once more, “I will never, ever forgive you.”

Oikawa grinned, and winked.  
“Easy! I’ve done extremer things than this before, believe in your cute leader!”

It felt cold in Iwaizumi’s body, as he started walking once again, away from the stop sign, and away from Oikawa.  
Yahaba hissed in pain, having to depend more on his own body again now that Oikawa wasn’t at his side anymore.

He couldn’t think.   
Just walk.   
Just make sure to walk.

“Iwa-chan, one more thing.”

Oikawa’s voice was distant, but clear.

Iwaizumi _had_ to look back one more time.

“Don’t come looking for me.”

**xxx**

Gun shot, _again_.

“Okay, now it’s getting a bit crazy,” Suga said, furrowing his eyebrows, “Are they throwing a party or something?”

“Those last shots had to have been from Aobajohsai’s territory. Shiratorizawa is too far away for those,” Daichi concluded, “Unless Aobajohsai let Shiratorizawa take over their territory. . . which is extremely unlikely, to say the least.”

After living, surviving, in Tokyo for years, Daichi could easily differentiate sound by now.  
He’d been part of and witness to many wars between gangs before.

“Maybe that Iwaizumi guy finally snapped and put a bullet through Oikawa’s head,” Suga proposed, a soft giggle following.

“He _would_ need two bullets to truly get rid of that man,” Daichi added, while Hinata had no clue what they were talking about.  
Hinata had heard the names ‘Oikawa’ and ‘Iwaizumi’ dropped before in conversations, and he knew Oikawa lead Aobajohsai, but other than that. . .

Aobajohsai had apparently given them a lot of trouble in Daichi and Suga’s younger years, but it died down as they shifted their focus towards Shiratorizawa.

“If they did have a gang fight, who would you want to win? Between Aobajohsai and Shiratorizawa, I mean,” Hinata asked the two, as he turned back around to look at them, now walking backwards.

Suga hummed, having to think about that one, but Daichi instantly knew.  
“Aobajohsai. Both groups are terrifying, but Shiratorizawa is. . . cruel.”

“I have to agree.”  
Suga nodded.  
“It’s like. . . Every encounter I’ve had with Shiratorizawa felt like they thought of it all as a game, and both humans and Walkers were potential pawns. With Aobajohsai, it’s different. They feel like just another group of people trying to survive the best they can, like us.”

“Ah, so Shiratorizawa really is the endgame villain of Tokyo city.”  
Hinata tightly clenched the straps of the bag when he almost tripped backwards over a brick, regaining his balance just in time.  
He turned to look forward again, skipping a few steps ahead of Suga and Daichi.

“Basically, yes,” Daichi chuckled, before his expression turned peacefully neutral again. He felt a feathery brush against his fingers, then a warm hand sliding into his own.  
Suga swung their entwined hands back and forth in a calm rhythm, softly humming some tune.  
Daichi sighed a content sigh, almost forgetting why they stopped their excursion earlier than planned.

The sun stood high in the sky, proof that time had passed faster than originally thought.  
They watched as Hinata jumped from one rock onto another, proudly standing on top with his hands on his hips.  
As he jumped back down again, he flapped his arms just like Suga had done before back next to the plane, but this looked arguably weirder.

One would almost think that Hinata has been shielded from reality for his entire life, seeing the way he could smile without a care in the world, and how he got excited about the smallest of things.  
But he wasn’t shielded.

He’s never been.

Not that Hinata didn’t truly enjoy a beautiful starry night sky, a butterfly settling on top of his nose or an excursion with his two favorite people on a sunny day-- he simply treasured these moments to the utmost, and that set him apart from many other people.  
It served to push himself through the most depressing of days, the most meaningless of days and last but not least, the most painful of days.

Days where Hinata asked the simple question of ‘Why?’, but nobody knew the answer.

“I got it!”  
Clasping his hands together tightly, a proud grin on his face, Hinata sprinted back to Suga and Daichi, who’d been chatting with each other hand in hand.  
“Look look!”

He opened up his hands, and a beautiful, white-and-black butterfly spread its wings, basking in the heat of Hinata’s hands.  
The black spots and wavy lines made the tiny animal a sight to behold.

Hinata looked absolutely adorable, and Suga smiled fondly as the butterfly decided it was time to leave again, fluttering in between Suga and Daichi, carried away by the soft breeze.

“I think those butterflies mistake your orange hair for a flower.”

“Wh-- nuh-uh! I’m sure they just really like me!”

Gunshot.  
Very close by.

It gave them all a shock, coming out of nowhere like that.

“They could’ve definitely heard that back at the orphanage as well,” Suga whispered, glancing in the direction of where the gunshot came from.  
“Don’t you think that came from the main road?”

“If so, Aobajohsai is really testing their waters right now,” Daichi grumbled, letting go of Suga’s hand and motioning for the other two to follow him, as he marched with a quicker pace forward.

They soon entered the last alleyway that lead them straight to the main road, and Daichi slowed down.  
All peacefulness from before was gone, with Daichi holding his gun and Suga one hand on his own bow.

“Hinata, you’re staying right here,” Daichi decided, bracing himself for a protest from the younger boy.  
That protest came instantly.

“What are you talking about?! I’m coming with!” Hinata whispered loudly, trying to glance around the corner like Daichi was doing.  
He saw significantly more Walkers than usual wandering the main road. Attracted by the gun shots from before, they had come out of their dazed, directionless cycle and gathered on the main road.

“Hinata,” Suga sternly started, “We’re just going to check the borders, I don’t think there will be a fight. This is just one of Aobajohsai’s annoying antics, it resembles the stuff they did in the past.”

Hinata whined softly, his lips pulled up in a subtle pout.  
He judged that, Suga and Daichi were probably right, as they had more experience with Aobajohsai.  
He wasn’t happy about it, though.

Hinata leaned down back against the wall of the building, crossing his arms.  
“Fine. . .”

“You just stay here, but be ready with your bow and don’t lose focus on your surroundings.”

Hinata nodded, albeit reluctantly. Suga smiled and ruffled his hair tenderly, before he and Daichi stepped out onto the sidewalk of the main road.  
A few meters away, an old car wreck.  
They stayed close to the side, almost sliding against the walls of the various shops that grimly decorated the road.

Suga always thought it was a blessing that Walkers’ noses didn’t work as well as their ears, and today it crossed his mind again. Not that they absolutely _couldn’t_ smell humans, but they didn’t rely on it.

Hinata continued to watch the two, an uneasy feeling in his gut, and he shifted around nervously every now and then.

The main road in their territory was almost a straight line.  
Almost.  
There was one corner that completely obscured their vision on Aobajohsai’s border.  
Which had been a strategic advancement before, but now it was an unwanted obstacle.

Suga and Daichi skillfully hid behind debris and the various car wrecks, sometimes quickly jumping through the broken shop windows for cover only to jump out again later and continue.

Almost at the corner.  
Even though there were more Walkers than usual, nobody ever said Walkers were _smart_.

Especially Suga had a knack for being able to move around extremely quietly.

When they reached the corner, Suga turned back to see Hinata’s head popped out of the alleyway, and gave a thumbs up.

Daichi first turned the corner, Suga soon followed.

And there it was.  
A nightmare.

Daichi’s heart froze over.  
Suga gasped, his mouth slightly agape as he took a hold of Daichi’s sleeve.

They stood eye to eye with a herd so gigantic, Daichi didn’t process it for the first few seconds.  
Neither knew that a few hours ago, this herd had instilled the same fear in Aobajohsai members already.

Shaky breaths, widened eyes and loud thumping-- his heart? -- in Suga’s throat and ears.  
He took a step back, tugging at Daichi, who stood frozen in his place.  
“Daichi, we need to--”

Crows were circling high above the herd.  
Walker men, women and children slowly moved towards one man, standing at the border of Karasuno-Aobajohsai in front of the herd.

Oikawa stood there soaked in sweat, small pieces of rotten flesh stuck to his face and clothes, and a gun in his hand, raised up high in the air.  
He seemed like he could collapse at any moment.  
Relieved, but still desperate.

He also looked batshit crazy.

Blood trickled down his nose, spread out smudges of blood and mud covering his face.  
Trembling where he stood, Oikawa pulled the trigger.

The gunshot sounded like a final judgement to Suga, as the loud echo reverberates between the buildings on both sides of the main road and painfully reached his ears. It immediately clicked that Oikawa had been the one to fire at least the last couple of gunshots as well.

Neither members of Karasuno had ever seen Oikawa like this. They knew him as an arrogant, powerful but beloved leader of Aobajohsai.

Now he looked like a man who has done everything he set out to do.

“What did you do. . . ?” Daichi weakly asked in astonishment, though Oikawa was a quarter of a mile away.  
Daichi had assumed Karasuno and Aobajohsai were on good enough terms that they wouldn’t pull shit like this.

The two could do nothing but watch for the next few moments, as they saw how Oikawa slowly lowered his arm and for a split second, gazed into Karasuno territory. He didn’t see Suga nor Daichi.

Oikawa looked fulfilled and exhausted.

Then, as if struck by lightning, Suga’s brain started working again. He shook Daichi, then punched him in his stomach when it didn’t wake him up fast enough.  
Daichi snapped back to reality, blinking.

“. . . okay,” Daichi breathed as he held his stomach, “Yeah, we need to go. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	3. Crowded Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 12/13/2020;   
> I received my first ever [fanart](https://makingafool-outta-me.tumblr.com/post/637354123009933312/show-chapter-archive) , and I cannot state enough how much I absolutely adore this piece!  
> It's of a scene in this chapter, so please check it out at the end if you'd like no spoilers!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos, I really appreciate it!  
> Fyi I don't have a set publication date, so updates will be a bit all over the place.

“Don’t come looking for me.”

As he told Iwaizumi those words, Oikawa turned back around, facing the herd.  
He could do this.  
It was time to prove once again that he truly was Aobajohsai’s leader, that he was worthy of that position.

Still though, for a split second he wished from the bottom of his heart that he went with Iwaizumi and Yahaba.  
But he simply had to do this, and that was that.

Clicking his tongue, Oikawa mentally listed potential obstacles along the way.  
The closest border with Karasuno was a couple of miles away, and if he used gunshots to make the herd follow him, not _just_ the herd was going to be attracted to him.  
No, Walkers from all around the city, all corners of their territory, out of the shadows, would flock to him as well.

And those Walkers would be in his path, blocking it.  
Which in turn meant. . .

. . . he had to avoid single Walkers from all directions while staying ahead of the herd and making sure they were following him.  
All on his own.

No time for self pity, he chose this himself.

Oikawa decided that he would save one bullet for emergencies, and use the other four to lead the herd.

It’d probably be best to try and follow the main road, right?  
He knew for a fact that at some point, a collapsed skyscraper completely blocks the main road, but other than that, the road lead straight into Karasuno territory.

Was he underestimating this mission?  
What if. . . ?

No, no. No ‘what-if’s’.

And now Oikawa wanted to look back _again_ .  
But he shouldn’t, because he already missed Iwaizumi--

He started walking into the opposite direction of Yahaba and Iwaizumi, away from their hideout, horizontally crossing the herd that came for him.  
He went to the left, Yahaba and Iwaizumi had gone to the right.

When he reached the crooked stop sign on the other side, he saw the herd had gotten very close now, but had significantly slowed down-- Yahaba and Iwaizumi were out of sight, and Oikawa stood at the corner of the street.  
Likely, the herd couldn’t see him, and the herd had no target left to stalk.

Oikawa turned his back to the herd, and continued walking on, steadily.  
Once he saw the first few Runner enter his street, he’d use the first bullet.

He climbed on top of a car wreck, focused on the herd that he couldn’t see, yet.  
But they were coming.  
Iwaizumi and Yahaba were nowhere to be find, much to Oikawa’s relief.

Now he _really_ was alone.

Runners were the first to enter the main road, naturally.

Oikawa waited.

He took a deep breath.

_A little bit longer._

He raised his gun, glaring down at the Runners in the distance, and shot.

In one collective moment, all heads turned toward him, and finally had a target to follow.

With a satisfied huff, Oikawa jumped off the car.

Now the game of cat and mouse began, and Oikawa liked to think that he was, in fact, the cat.  
A cat that lead the mice astray, fooling them into believing they had the upper hand, only to discover the cat had been the one pulling the strings, leading them where he wanted them to be.

Or perhaps Oikawa was wrong and he was going to die a most painful death, being eaten alive by Walkers, trapped and alone.  
Which was a very real scenario if he made any mistakes.

Darting along on the street, he made sure the Walkers could see him at all times. Oikawa realised he probably had to use another bullet soon, to get the attention of the other half of the herd that was behind.  
He’d racked up quite the Walker following by now, but it was definitely not all of them.

Iwaizumi had asked him multiple times in the past, in all seriousness, if Oikawa had a death wish.

‘No, I don’t,’ Oikawa would always answer, ‘Life’s just really boring sometimes.’

Iwaizumi would then proceed to call him an asshole.

Looking up at the sky, Oikawa saw crows gathering, and he scrunched up his face in a sour expression.  
He hated the birds, with their awful, ugly screeching and how they always followed around death.

‘Too bad’, he thought, ‘I’m not going to die today, so you can leave again.’

The first lone Walkers started to creep out of the various side streets and alleyways, signalling that Oikawa really had to focus on his task now.  
One mistake and it could mean the end for him.

Anxieties started to seep back into his thoughts, so Oikawa shook his head quickly to shake them away.  
If he were to die someday, it was either in Iwaizumi’s arms or after being abducted by mysterious green beings from the sky above.

This part of the main road seemed to go on forever.  
He knew it was a straight line right until the collapsed skyscraper, where he then had to take a detour around to get to the other side.  
He’d have to use another shot right after he reaches the other side.

Then, the fourth bullet, at the Karasuno border.

Now was the prime time to sound the second gunshot, and so Oikawa did. Less flamboyant this time, simply standing on the ground next to a large metal plate on the ground, that had fallen of the shop’s wall next to him.

Oikawa hoped that he got the seventy percent he guessed before, because the last two bullets were going to be used to actually keep the herd’s attention and direct them to where they needed to go.

Only then it dawned on him that he was sending a herd into another group’s territory.  
Just like what Shiratorizawa did to them.

Was Oikawa truly any better, then.

Oikawa nodded to himself.  
Yes, he was better.  
Nobody from Shiratorizawa was as handsome and cute as he was, so that gave Oikawa a pass.

_If only he truly believed that._

He laughed at himself.  
What an _exceptionally_ poor attempt at justification.

It was either Aobajohsai, or Karasuno.  
He couldn’t loop the herd back into Shiratorizawa’s territory, the herd was too large.  
That would’ve been Oikawa’s first choice by a long shot otherwise.

It wasn’t fair to deliberately lead the Walkers to Karasuno.  
But life wasn’t fair to anyone.

Oikawa had to do everything he could to protect Aobajohsai, his friends, comrades and family, and if that meant sacrificing another group. . . so be it.

He stepped over a crack in the asphalt, walking calmly in a beeline in between a few Walkers ahead.  
He wrinkled his nose as he passed a heap of ash black, dead Walkers that he, Matsukawa and Kyoutani had burnt to the ground a few weeks ago; these definitely would never rise again.

Never light a live Walker on fire, though.  
Only when they’re dead.  
A rookie mistake.  
You wouldn’t want to deal with a clawing Walker who was out for your blood and flesh, who was then also on fire.

In the distance, Oikawa saw the reflective light of the sun bouncing off the many broken windows of the tipped over skyscraper, blocking the main road.

So far so good.

Movement.

His eyes shifted to the right.

A small cluster of Walkers had stepped out of the shadows of an alleyway.

Oikawa couldn’t believe how he just jinxed himself like that, sighing loudly.  
This was a problem.  
Single Walkers wandering around are fine, but it just had to be a group, of course.

Beside his gun, Oikawa kept knives tied to his belt. Close combat was more risk than reward when dealing with a Walker, so he’d perfected the art of _throwing_ knives instead.

The Walker at the front of the little group quickly turned out to be a Runner instead, and Oikawa decided that one had to die.   
He did not want to deal with a Runner chasing him while making sure to stay ahead of the gigantic herd behind him.

Quickly getting on top of a heap of bricks-- courtesy of the remaining half of the building behind-- he glanced around to make sure nothing snuck up on him, and slipped one of the knives into his hand.

When Oikawa looked up again, he saw the Runner laying on the ground with an arrow through its head.

Dead.

“What--” he hissed, his eyes wide as he frantically looked around, looking at the windows of the different buildings and floors all around him, into alleyways, for a sign of someone--  
Someone else killed it before he could, Oikawa hadn’t seen anyone, so how and who--

The growing amount of groaning and moaning behind him alerted Oikawa that he’d been distracted for too long, the herd had crept up too close to him.  
He jumped off the pile of stones away from the Walkers, _again_ , his eyes still shifting around to try and find the culprit.

Then he saw.  
A flurry of black hair in the corner of his eye, the same color as the feathers of the crows swarming above.  
Never Oikawa thought he’d meet him of all people here.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” Kageyama spat, his icy blue eyes piercing through Oikawa’s chocolate ones. He had a bow in his left hand.  
“Why is a goddamn herd following you?!”

For the first time in years Oikawa had no idea what to say, rendered completely speechless.  
“. . . Tobio-chan. . .”

Kageyama pulled Oikawa along, forcing him to move away from the Walkers.

Kageyama had disappeared off the radar a couple of weeks ago when he was out hunting by himself, and nobody was able to find him. They looked, for two days, but gave up when they couldn’t find a trace.  
Kindaichi and Kunimi hadn’t participated in the search.

Oikawa rapidly blinked, “What? Wait a moment-- Tobio-chan, we thought you were dead!”

“Answer my questions,” Kageyama barked at him, and kept glancing back and forth between Oikawa and the herd, now finally a good distance away from them again.  
“What are you doing out here all alone, with a herd hot on your trail?”

The frown the dark-haired young man constantly wore, somehow sunk even deeper.  
He seemed to be in a good condition, well-fed and, most importantly, not a Walker.

Finally, Oikawa found the words again, pushing is own questions to the side for now.  
“You heard gunshots today, right?”  
“Damn right I did. A fight?”  
“Shiratorizawa killed Shido, then used Yahaba as a trap to lure me and Iwa-. . . Iwaizumi in. Unleashed a herd of Walkers on us,” he said, with a nod to said herd behind.  
Simply thinking about Iwaizumi cracked his mental stronghold.

Now he and Kageyama walked alongside each other on the main road through Aobajohsai territory, like old comrades, which they technically were; but Oikawa did not see the younger male as such.

Not anymore.

In all those years Kageyama was with Aobajohsai, he tried so hard to be like Oikawa. Following him around like a lost puppy, and at first, Oikawa was completely fine with it.  
He taught little Kageyama everything he wanted to know, until one day, he outshone Oikawa.  
Kageyama was favored by Mother Nature.  
He had natural talents in hunting, killing and sneaking around undetected. Luck always seemed to be on his side, and Oikawa began to despise everything Kageyama stood for and accomplished.

He stopped praising and correcting Kageyama.  
Oikawa stopped being a leader to him.  
Slowly, in turn, Kageyama averted himself from the group completely, only seeming to tolerate Iwaizumi, and went out to hunt by himself all the time.

 _“He acts like a King standing top of his own little empire of nothingness. . .”  
_ _“. . . all alone. . .”  
_ _“King of the Dead. . .”  
_ _“. . . all high and mighty.”_

“Wait a moment, are you leading this herd towards--”  
Kageyama caught on quickly.  
How annoying.

“That’s right,” Oikawa nodded, his brown hair bobbing along, “Iwaizumi is with Yahaba, I’m sure they must be almost at the base by now. If I didn’t divert the herd and stayed with them, we would’ve all been Walker snacks.”

“. . . I see.”  
Kageyama nodded slowly, “Right. Either Aobajohsai, or. . . Karasuno, was it?”

Oikawa nodded again, absentmindedly.  
Somewhere in his mind, he was relieved, and he hated it.  
He was relieved that he wasn’t alone anymore, even if his new company turned out to be one of his least favorite persons in existence.

They walked in silence, Kageyama killed a Thinker who’d been sneaking up behind them, and they continued.

“. . . why are you staying with me?” Oikawa then asked, curiosity getting the better of him.  
“I don’t like you, and you don’t like me.”

“True,” Kageyama hit him with honest bluntness, “I don’t like you. But I owe Iwaizumi a favor.”

“Why’d you leave us?” Oikawa snapped, narrowing his eyes slightly.  
“Were we too much of a common folk?” he sneered.

Kageyama visibly tensed.  
“. . . you know as well as I do that you and I, we’d break out in a real fight someday.”

They would. It already almost happened multiple times before without Kageyama knowing.  
How Oikawa had wanted to strangle Kageyama in his sleep before, give him a little push in the wrong direction, or just straight up burrow a knife in his chest.

But he never could.

He didn’t need Iwaizumi to tell him that he shouldn’t kill Kageyama.

Perhaps Kageyama had made the right call to leave after all.

Oikawa sighed, a ghost of a chuckle following.  
“Oh Tobio-chan, I will never understand you.”

He didn’t understand why, even if Kageyama owed Iwaizumi a favor of some sorts, he would choose to pay back that favor by helping out Oikawa.

Had Kageyama sensed that even Oikawa didn’t truly believe he was going to live through this?

Nonsense.

“Will you let me live on Aobajohsai’s border?”

Surprised, Oikawa found Kageyama looking at the ground as he spoke, kicking small pebbles.

He continued, “You can tell the others that you found me dead. You won’t ever hear or see me again.”

“. . . You’re awfully confident that I’ll live to even tell the others you’re dead,” Oikawa mumbled.

Kageyama faced him, blinking, truly confused.  
“Of course you’ll live. I’m going to help you lead the herd into Karasuno territory.”

**xxx**

Oikawa’s plan had worked.  
To a high degree.

Panting, frantically using his free hand to lean against a wall, Iwaizumi took a couple of deep breaths.  
“Come on, Yahaba-- a little bit, further.”

Yahaba groaned, but managed to stand on his own two legs again, tightly gripping Iwaizumi’s shoulder.  
“Where’s. . . Oikawa?”

It had all been fuzzy to Yahaba, from the moment Oikawa and Iwaizumi held him tightly, till now.  
Most of the lightheadedness had disappeared however.

Iwaizumi didn’t answer his question.  
“Let’s go.”  
“Where’s--”

“Dead, probably,” Iwaizumi hissed, effectively shutting up Yahaba as they continued walking-- limping-- again. They haven’t had any trouble with Walkers yet, which was a miracle in and of itself.  
A miracle that Oikawa had a big part in creating.

“What?!”  
Yahaba hadn’t ever seen Iwaizumi like this before.  
He’d seen him angry, annoyed, sad, fearful, focused, and even happy-- though Iwaizumi would never admit that one.  
But now, the older male was just plowing through the city with Yahaba on his shoulder.  
Was it frustration?  
Helplessness?

Yahaba didn’t believe Oikawa could be dead.

“. . . we’re here.”

It was true.  
Yahaba could almost cry out of relief of seeing that old, worn down mansion on top of the little hill, just at the outside rim of Tokyo.  
The flattened steps leading up the hill, the weathered, puny white fence, the apple tree, the broken fountain-- he’d missed it.   
He’d missed it so much, he didn’t even realise it until now.  
After being held captive by Shiratorizawa for two days-- and seeing his friend die-- his body felt torn between shutting down completely or running up the rough, stony stairs.

“God-- _fuck_ ,” Yahaba breathed, his eyes glazing over as Iwaizumi hauled him up with him. He felt the man next to him was just as exhausted, nearly falling backwards down the stairs twice.

Home.  
This was home to them all.  
Finally he was safe, back with his beloved comrades, and not fearing for his life nonstop for two days straight chained in a cold, empty, wet room.

Yahaba heard many different voices, yelling, recognizing them but not remembering to who they belonged.  
He felt another pair of strong arms replacing Iwaizumi’s, as the smoky, cozy and familiar scent of the mansion filled his lungs.

He finally closed his eyes.

**xxx**

“You know that, we may not survive this, yes?”  
“Ugh, shut up. I’m not dying today.”

The skyscraper really did block the main road completely, as it had fallen over and crashed into a train station, reducing it to a flattened heap of debris and bricks.

Kageyama let out a sigh, staring up the collapsed tower.  
“There’s an easy way around for us, but you’ll have to accept that the herd won’t follow us completely. I’d say around--”

“--half of them will follow us with another bullet,” Oikawa finished, agreeing.  
The two had decided on a truce for now, and were busy figuring out their next move while standing on top of a car, in front of and facing the skyscraper.  
It was only now that Oikawa noticed that cars were gathered in front of the skyscraper blockade, so he imagined it had tipped over when Walkers just started appearing on this world and effectively blocking an escape route.  
He wondered what exactly made the skyscraper collapse.

Kageyama had promised to help out his nemesis to repay his-- to Oikawa unknown-- debt to Iwaizumi.  
After that, they wouldn’t ever have to see each other again, and they both accepted that.

“Tobio-chan, in another life, we would’ve been a great team,” Oikawa hummed, “I’m sure of it~”  
“No, I don’t think so,” the other grumbled, “I can’t imagine you won’t be an asshole in that other life.”  
“Me, an asshole? How dare you, you’re insane.”

Oikawa was in a much better mood now that he wasn’t alone anymore, though he wouldn’t admit to it.  
When alone, he’d be constantly reminded of all possible bad endings he could end up with on this solo mission, but now that Kageyama had joined him, Oikawa was just reminded of how much he hated the younger male.

“Hey, hey, we have a truce, a truce!” Oikawa shrieked when Kageyama brought his fist too close for comfort to Oikawa’s face.  
“Anything but my face, _please_!”

They were running out of time to decide on the route to go around the skyscraper. Soon enough they won’t have any choices at all, because the herd got closer and closer.

“Let’s go into the street to the right, next to the supermarket,” Kageyama decided; he could, in fact, read, but Oikawa couldn’t, so he gestured in the general direction for him to understand.  
“Climb up on the supermarket’s roof with the help of that metal bin and the gutter, jump over to the next building and jump down again.”

“We really have to hurry, though. And pray to Lady Luck that there are no unwelcome surprises on the other side,” Oikawa mumbled, sliding down the car, followed by Kageyama.

“One last mission together, Tobio-chan.”

Kageyama arrowed a Walker that conveniently blocked their path to the supermarket, sprinting across the street.  
They were both fast runners, but that may be the one thing Oikawa could definitely beat Kageyama in; speed.

Hopping on top of the metal bin located against the wall of the supermarket in one elegant jump, Oikawa grabbed a tight hold onto the gutter and pulled himself up. The gutter cut into his hands, drawing a little bit of blood, but he could not be bothered right now.

The view on the roof was definitely a good way to oversee the herd, and Oikawa noticed that it had already thinned out a bit.  
Still, he knew that if hadn’t aversed the herd from its original path, not even the tall mansion they lived in would hold up. They’d be locked in their hideout for possibly days, being unable to leave due to the amount of Walkers.

_Either us, or them._

To his left, there lay the broken, sun reflecting skyscraper, nearly blinding them, which with its enormous width meant that, like Kageyama had predicted, they did have to jump a few roofs to cross that width.

The sun shone an orange glow on the city, as it was starting to set.

“Hurry up!”  
Kageyama nearly pushed Oikawa off the building, but luckily he landed safely, albeit unbalanced.

“How mean, you almost killed me! If you’re gonna be like this, I won’t need a herd of Walkers to die,” he huffed, watching as Kageyama landed perfectly with a smug grin.

“You keep talking about dying, but Iwaizumi would murder you a second time if you did.”

Now they were both unscathed on the other side of the fallen skyscraper, pieces of glass littering the street.  
“Okay Tobio-chan, let’s fire!”  
“What--”

Sweeping the gun out of its holder on his belt, Oikawa covered one ear with his hand, while stabbing the air with his gun in the other.  
Pulling the trigger, the third bullet out of the five he had shot in the air.

“Goddamnit! Warn me next time!”  
Kageyama continued to curse Oikawa’s name, grumbling.

“But I did warn you!”  
“I didn’t understand what the fuck you meant with ‘Let’s fire!’!”

They continued bickering, until Walkers started streaming from both sides onto the main road.

“Oh that’s right, we were marching along _with a fucking Walker herd after us_ ,” Kageyama hissed, holding his bow and an arrow ready as he steadily started to jog forward.

Oikawa quickly caught up to him, not wanting to be left in the dust.  
“Tobio-chan, Tobio-chan~”

Kageyama didn’t want anything to do with that sickly sweet tone Oikawa was calling him with.  
“Tobio-cha-- . . .”

When Oikawa suddenly cut off, Kageyama finally looked back.  
“What the fuck do you want?” he snapped, glaring at the taller man, who stood frozen in place.  
He was looking at something to the left.   
Kageyama followed his gaze, and narrowed his eyes when he saw what got Oikawa’s attention.

He sighed.  
“. . . look, Oikawa, we can just walk away from this.”

“How can you say such a thing?” Oikawa muttered softly, and started walking towards it. Kageyama frowned, but followed from a distance.

Standing still, Oikawa bent down before the Walker, who was trapped underneath a collapsed wall. It growled at him, its weak, thin arms stretching out and trying to grab Oikawa. Its legs were trapped, and it couldn’t move.  
It missed part of its face, skin thinly stuck to its bones.

Kageyama covered his nose as he approached, stopping a fair distance away still, glancing back at the herd that still wasn’t done seeping onto the road from behind the skyscraper.

No, Oikawa wasn’t pitying the Walker because it was trapped, but because of who it used to be.  
He clearly recognized that hair, the old clothing and few remaining facial features.

“So this is where you were, Yuda Kaneo,” Oikawa said softly, “I’m so sorry. You must have--”  
“Don’t go apologizing to a Walker! Yuda doesn’t need it anymore. Put him out of his misery already.”  
Kageyama felt maybe that was a bit too harsh, but on the other hand, there was a herd after them.

Oikawa swallowed, “. . . You’re right.”  
Kageyama just grumbled, looking away.

Oikawa stood up again, and pointed his gun at Yuda’s head, biting his bottom lip.  
“What luck that I saved one bullet. . . Goodbye.”

He closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger.  
He felt little pieces of flesh hit his face and arms, accompanied with splotches of blood.  
He wiped his face, effectively smudging the blood.

Oikawa turned around and opened his eyes again, breathing a sigh of relief.  
“I’m glad I did that. If I were to turn into a Walker, I would want someone to kill me as quick as possible. Preferably even before I turn into one.”

Then without another word, the two turned their backs to the herd one last time, and walked in silence.

One last mile till they reached the border of Aobajohsai’s territory.  
One last mile till he had to fire the last bullet, sealing Karasuno’s fate.  
One last mile. . . till he could return back to his group.

Iwaizumi must be cursing my name to hell and back, Oikawa thought.

His mind started wandering, imagining how the others back at the mansion were doing. He didn’t question that Yahaba and Iwaizumi made it back to the group safely, though.  
He knew they were safe.  
He trusted Iwaizumi, and it made his heart feel a little lighter knowing that.

A fist connected with Oikawa’s face, and he almost stumbled to the ground at the impact. He swore he heard his nose crack.  
Alas, it stung, and he felt blood welling up and sliding down his nose.

“What the hell?! Tobio! Why?!”

Kageyama waved his hand around, glaring daggers at the man beside him.  
“ _You_ ,” he sneered, “were dozing off. You almost walked right into the loving arms of a Walker, you idiot!”

Oikawa looked at the ground a few meters away from him, and there he saw a Walker with one arrow in its head, the other in its throat.

“ _Shit_ ,” Oikawa whispered, “ _Goddamn--_ Really though, you had to hit me in my face for that?!”

“I already called out to you multiple times!” Kageyama informed him, “But you wouldn’t fucking listen!”

Groaning as if it hurt more than it actually did, Oikawa covered his nose with one hand, rolling his eyes.  
“Besides,” Kageyama said, adding insult to injury quite literally, “You deserve it after all these years.”

Hissing like a cat, Oikawa blocked out Kageyama’s words and focused on the task at hand; they finally reached the border.

Finally.

Oikawa felt exhausted, the pain in his nose didn’t even come close to the amount of willpower it had taken him all this way, to deliberately walk away from the person he cared about the most, not knowing for absolute certainty if either was going to live through this.

He just walked miles among beings that cursed everyone’s life, that had killed his friends and made the world _hell_.

But there was also a spark of pride present.  
Oikawa had done exactly what he set out to do.

Well, almost. One last bullet away from his goal.

The border was quiet. Few Walkers had gathered on either side of the border, and Oikawa had no problems climbing on top of a car for the last fucking time, looking out into Karasuno territory.

No turning back now.

“Tobio, could you, you know. . .” Oikawa trailed, looking down at the raven haired man on the ground, “. . . fend off Walkers for me? This is the last bullet. I have some knives, but _dear god_ , everything hurts, and I’m afraid that--”

“Sure,” Kageyama nodded, devoid of a glare, scowl and insult.  
“Of course.”

Oikawa breathed out a laugh, thankful.  
He may hate every drop of blood in Kageyama’s veins, but in the end, he was still his pupil that he taught for years.

“You can live on the border. Maybe use Johzenji’s old hideout or something,” Oikawa suggested.  
“I’ll tell them you’re dead. We will still patrol the border though, remember that.”

Barely noticable, Kageyama nodded.  
“Nobody will ever see me again.”

With his hair idly floating in the soft breeze, Oikawa took a deep breath.  
Kageyama leaned against the back of the car, keeping a close eye on the wandering Walkers.

His fingers trembled as he pulled out the gun _once more_ , his facial expression distorting into something in between pure euphoria and arrogant pride, which reflected how he felt.  
“This is it. _This is it_.”

Never had Oikawa been away from his group for this long.  
Nobody in their group was ever alone, no matter what.  
Always in pairs, _at least_.

He thrust the pistol in the air, and fired.

**xxx**

Now it was really time to run.

After he and Oikawa parted in silence, acknowledging each other, Kageyama instantly ran.  
The herd would be flooding across the border within five minutes, if not less.   
More and more Walkers rose from the many streets, and if he wanted to get out of this hellhole in one piece, he had to find a safe escape quick.

The border would be overrun, and while most of the herd would travel through into Karasuno’s territory, some would stay back and form a danger for him.

Left.  
Johzenji’s old hideout was left, close to the border.

Adrenaline finally started pumping through his veins, desperately finding an alleyway that wasn’t blocked by Walkers.

 _Hurry_ , it repeated through his head, over and over, _hurry, hurry, hurry_ .  
A race against the clock.

Kageyama mentally questioned himself for deciding to show himself to Oikawa. He could have just stayed hidden and live his life without Oikawa knowing he was still alive, but he felt like he owed it to Iwaizumi.

He’d followed Oikawa for a while after he heard the first few gunshots, and watched the older man’s behavior change.  
Oikawa may not have noticed it himself, but Kageyama saw how he was getting sloppier when moving, how his eyes stood paranoid and darted from left to right.

So he decided to interrupt before Oikawa really got himself bitten.  
Kageyama did wonder why Iwaizumi let Oikawa go alone, everyone in Aobajohsai knew of their leader’s horrible coping with loneliness.

Actually, it was the _lack_ of coping with it that made Oikawa so bad at going solo anywhere.

But, now Kageyama felt like he could leave Aobajohsai without any regrets.  
He’d miss simply being around other people, but the last years with the group weren’t ones he treasured.

As if time stood still, Kageyama’s eyes focused on the opening he found.  
The main road was getting quite crowded now, so he did have to pass some Walkers dangerously close, but once he got past them--  
That alleyway was completely empty.

It was honestly perfect.  
Lucky.

This may be his only chance, too.

With his bow and arrow ready, he dove underneath the stretched out arms of a Walker that tried to snag him, shooting an arrow at a Runner that came for him the moment he avoided the previous one.

His foot landed wrong on a _mean_ piece of rock, nearly slipping, but his other foot rebalanced him just in time.  
_A little bit further--_

His mind was hyper focused on the alley, and then. . .

. . . he slipped right in between two Walkers, diving into the alleyway safely. Sand and dust flew in the air as he continued sprinting, controlled breathing escaping his lips as the adrenaline kicked back in, giving him a little boost.

Now it was just a matter of finding that hideout before the herd flooded the alleyways too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	4. Flooded Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy, and thank you again for your support!

“Suga, tell Hinata to run,” Daichi said, “Back in the direction of the steel bird. Tell him to hide for a few days until that herd has thinned out.”  
“What?! No, he’s coming with us!”  
“Sugawara. If he follows us back to the orphanage, he’d have to cross the main road before the herd. Even though he’s fast, the herd’s going to cut him off.”

Biting his bottom lip, Suga’s eyes glanced from Hinata to the herd and back to the street they’d have to take to get to the orphanage.

“Besides. . .” Daichi trailed, “Some of the herd may follow Hinata, diverging them away from flooding the hideout.”  
“You’re going to use Hinata as a distraction? As bait?” Suga whispered, in disbelief.  
“‘Decoy’ would be a better word.”

The two older men had barely recovered from the shock the sea of Walkers gave them.  
“Hinata’s going to be angry with me if I don’t let him help in some capacity anyway,” Daichi grumbled, imagining the onslaught of arguments.

He saw Suga still looked hesitant.  
“Just trust in Hinata, okay? He can do this. He has that little bag with food as well, so don’t think I was going to send him out alone with no food or water.”

“Alright, fine,” Suga finally gave in, nodding, “I. . . I know Hinata can do this, it’s just. . .”  
“It’s okay to be worried, I am too,” Daichi stated, “But he can take care of himself, and he’s been wanting to prove that to us for the last few years now.”

That fully convinced Suga.  
The two had reached the street that lead from the main road into the alleyway maze, and while Daichi made sure no Walker snuck up on them, Suga cupped his hands around his mouth.  
“Hinata! You have to hide somewhere safe for a few days! Me and Daichi are going back to inform the others!”

Hinata was gawking at the sudden appearance of the Walkers, but had stayed where he was in the alleyway on the other side, obeying Daichi’s previous orders.  
Suga saw confusion in the boy’s eyes, but also how it turned into determination.  
With a firm nod, Hinata confirmed that he could and wanted to do this. That gave Suga peace of mind, and a proud smile tugged on his lips.  
He was going to have to depend on Hinata, depend that he’d be safe and would come back after the herd passed through.

“C’mon, let’s go. We have to warn the others,” Daichi ushered, lightly pushing Suga into the street.  
Suga turned to look once more, and saw Hinata had already disappeared.  
Just in time, too.  
The herd had now completely flooded the main road in Karasuno territory.

Hinata had no time to feel pride that he finally got his own, real solo mission. Walkers followed him into the alleyway, their cries sending shivers down his spine.  
He knew what he had to do.  
Find a safe place, preferably a boarded up building with one, maybe two exits.

This wouldn’t be the first time he’d be stuck in the middle of a herd; however, back then he was accompanied by Daichi, and they _knew_ they were going to be flooded. It was to teach and show Hinata the essentials of what to do when an actual, uncontrolled situation like that was going to happen someday, inevitably.

And that day was now.

Hinata wasn’t tall or strong, which was a fact of life he used to struggle with a lot when he was younger, but he’s found his own strengths over the years.  
He’s nimble, quick, agile and a stamina machine.

Hinata felt a little bit worried for the orphanage, though. It was a strong building, but it would never be able to hold off a full on herd, especially not unprepared.  
Then again, he also trusted his comrades.  
They knew what they were doing, and Ukai was there to guide them.

“Building, building,” Hinata whispered to himself as he sprinted through the streets he, Suga and Daichi had passed through twice today already.  
It wasn’t an easy task, finding a place to stay for a couple of days straight.  
Skyscrapers were absolutely useless and many houses had no good defense or were collapsed and destroyed.

Then, he diverted from the path.  
Walkers attracted to the gunshot were blocking the way to the steel bird, and he couldn’t turn around either.

To the left he went, a cloud of sand kicked up as he drifted a bit too far, and had to pick up speed back again.  
Hinata was very aware that he was rapidly approaching the Aobajohsai border, but the need to run and survive was stronger than caution of another group.

He’d basically looped around the herd, and that’s when it hit him.  
For some reason, which he was eternally grateful for, now his brain decided to remind Hinata of a conversation he once had with Ukai.

 _“Did you know there used to be more groups than the current ones we have in Tokyo, Hinata?”  
_ _“Really?! What happened to them?”  
_ _“One left the city after suffering too many losses, the other three were wiped off the Earth completely by Shiratorizawa and Aobajohsai.”  
_ _“What were their names?”  
_ _“Date Tech, Johzenji, Nohebi and Inarizaki. Karasuno took over Date Tech’s old territory after they were. . . eradicated. Aobajohsai has Johzenji’s, Shiratorizawa Nohebi and Nekoma Inarizaki.”_ _  
_ _“What about Fukurodani?”  
_ _“They let Nekoma have it.”  
_ _“Wow. . .”_

Hinata remembered.  
Date Tech’s old hideout was on the other side of their territory though, Hinata would never reach it.  
But. . .

Hinata saw the torn yellow flag sticking out proudly on top of the old hotel building. This whole area in the neighborhood had a lot of similar buildings.

Too late Hinata saw that the street suddenly broke off.  
The asphalt went abruptly over into a steep slope, belonging to a large crater right in front of Johzenji’s old hideout.  
Whole pieces of asphalt and bricks lay at the bottom of the crater, tubes and poles of different lengths sticking out of the sand.

“ _Ah, fuck_ ,” he breathed, before tipping over.

Clenching the straps of the bag on his back tightly, there wasn’t much else to do than let gravity do its work.  
Hinata made himself as small as possible.  
He closed his eyes as his tumbling kicked up dust and mud, he couldn’t see a thing even if he did open his eyes.

Hinata silently prayed that he’d land safely.

He didn’t.

A sharp pain in his thigh forced Hinata’s eyes open and gasp. He was nearing the bottom of the crater.  
Instantly he felt the skin on his thigh thumping in little waves of pain, and he cried out once, before tightly shutting his lips and gritting his teeth.

Reaching the bottom, he coughed as dust clouded all around him, then turned around to check the damage.

There was a large gash from his pelvis across his thigh down to his knee, his once brown pants now darkened and soaked in blood.  
That side of his pants was torn up, the wound out in the open.  
Sand landed on and stuck to the blood gushing out.

When he landed, he’d also heard a loud snap, and now he saw what caused it.  
His bow was broken in two.

Hinata saw clearly how his flesh was cut open, the loose flaps tearing at his skin and muscles. Blood continued to flow and pool in the wound, making it so that Hinata was unable to see how deep the wound was.  
But it was deep.  
Mortally deep.

Unwanted tears rolled down his face as he tried to stand up, but he just couldn’t. His body wouldn’t let him.

“No, no, I’m not--” he hiccuped, tears blurring his vision.  
_I’m not going to die here.  
_ _It wasn’t meant to go like this.  
_ _I just had to get to that hideout._

**_That was all I had to do._ **

Through the blurriness he saw movement on top of the crater where he’d fallen down from.  
The shadows he could make out moved erratically, towards the crater, then fell down just like Hinata did.

Those weren’t people.

Rubbing his eyes to witness his own impending doom rolling towards him, Hinata would’ve laughed at the sight if it weren’t for him bleeding out.

Walkers rolled down the slope like lifeless puppets, some getting stuck on a pole or on each other.

Swallowing, Hinata’s bloody, burning hand pushed the two flaps of flesh together as best as he could, bearing the stinging, continuous pain that came with it. It effectively slowed down the amount of blood flowing out somewhat, and it stopped the pulling on his flesh.

Hinata used his free hand and intact leg to crawl, desperately crawl on his side with all the energy he could muster, slowly away.  
To where, he had no idea.  
His instincts simply pushed him to move, away from the fate of being eaten alive.  
He wouldn’t be able to get out, he was stuck in this cruel battle arena the crater had turned into to.

A battle arena with only one outcome.

Hinata wasn’t even going at a pace that could outcrawl the slow Walkers.  
He did finally reach the other side of the crater, the first Walker that safely made it down a meter away from him.

Resting with his back against the slope, his last line of defense was using his working leg to kick the Walkers away.  
Not that that would hold up long.  
They’d soon crowd around him, and he would inevitably get bitten.

Hinata closed his eyes.  
What a stupid way to go.  
Even though he’d promised Daichi, he’d promised Suga. . .

The moaning and groaning grew louder, the smell of rotting meat completely enveloping Hinata.

He opened his eyes in a flash of anger, and kicked in the Walker’s bony knee who fell back on impact. The Walker woman had literally stood in front of him, inches away.  
“ _Fuck off_ ,” he hissed, “I refuse--”

There were at least ten Walkers approaching him all at once.  
With a newfound fire in his eyes, Hinata glared at the undead creatures as they got closer, and closer.

The next moment the Walker woman he’d kicked away before, had an arrow through her head.  
Another arrow flew over Hinata from behind, and killed another one.

“S. . . Suga?” Hinata whispered in a daze, hopeful. Suga was the only person he knew with a bow and arrow accuracy like that.  
_Hope_ flooded back into his body once he processed that there was someone out there currently saving him.

He almost forgot about his own wound until he tried to stand up, only for his body to painfully remind him of the very reason there was a trail of thick blood on the ground.

Behind him, Hinata heard little pieces of stone roll down the slope, and something sliding along.  
With a thud, Hinata’s savior landed on the crater ground next to him.

“I saw you fall, you dumb fuck.”  
Though his voice was harsh and cold, Hinata was entranced.  
His tears had stopped, the last few dripping down on his shirt, the pain momentarily numbed.

The profile of the young man stood illuminated against the orange sky, his sharp edges softened by the last rays of sun.  
He was wearing a dark green cloak, a bow and arrow ready, and a spear tied to his back.

Droplets of sweat were stuck to his muscled arms and forehead, as he pulled back the string of his bow and landed another arrow with ease.

A loud growl shocked Hinata back to reality, and with that the pain nearly overwhelmed him again.  
A Runner haphazardly stumbled towards them, its arms swinging wildly.

The man took the spear off his back in one smooth movement, and thrust the sharp edge into the Runner’s stomach, pulling out a string of blackened intestines when he pulled back.  
With a disgusting squelching the guts fell to the ground, the Runner down with it.

Hinata started to shiver, feeling dizzy from all the blood loss.  
His leg felt numb except for the gash itself, streaks of thick blood trickling over the edges.  
The skin around the wound was fiery red and burning.  
He was going to collapse any second, he felt it.  
But he couldn’t take his eyes off the scenario in front of him.

For the first time, his eyes met with the man’s in a split second, blue met hazel.  
Hinata saw so much in those dark blue eyes in so little time, he forced his own to remain open and stare just a bit longer.

On the other side of the crater, a new wave of Walkers rolled down. Now Hinata knew for sure that the herd had fully overrun Karasuno territory.  
So far away Hinata was from his friends.

Before he could pity himself any further, he felt a pair of strong arms lift him up; one arm underneath his knees perfectly fitted in the dents, lifting up his legs, the other around his back.

“Keep the wound closed with one hand,” the male ordered, glaring down at Hinata.  
“Hold onto me with your other.”

Hinata did as he was told without question, his arm swung around the man’s neck, the other once again holding the wound closed as best as he could, biting through the pain.  
Everything hurt now that only two places on his body were supported, his calves and feet idly slumped over the man’s arm.

Involuntarily trembling, Hinata closed his eyes and just focused on holding on tightly. For some reason, he completely trusted this stranger.  
It was either trusting him, or being eaten alive-- the choice wasn’t debatable.

Instead of rotting flesh, the smell of sweat and blood filled his nostrils, calming him down somewhat. The latter scents were smells Hinata didn’t usually associate with danger; blood of the animals he hunted, sweat of a day working hard.

But now it was his own blood he smelled, and the sweat of someone he didn’t even know the name of.

With his eyes still closed, Hinata felt the man taking a few steps back, and out of nowhere, started to run.  
He’d need the momentum to get up the slope, to actually leave this Walker trap of a crater.  
Powerful legs propelled them in the air from left to right, pausing only for seconds before jumping again.

Peeking through his eyelashes, Hinata saw that the man jumped from one pole to a rock sticking out of the slope with extreme precision, like some mountain goat.

He felt quick, warm breaths brushing against his forehead, he saw trails of sweat running down the raven-haired man’s throat, past his prominent Adam’s apple and melting into his shirt.

Rapid breathing made way for soft panting, then the man stopped moving.  
They had reached the top, the opposite side of the crater where Hinata fell down from.

Hinata listened to the fast, rhythmic heartbeat near his ear, feeling his mind shutting down slowly.  
By some miracle, he was saved.  
Sure, he still had that wound, but that could be treated.  
He was _safe_ from the Walkers.  
He’d question the stranger later, Hinata decided he’d be suspicious and cautious of him when he woke up again.

Then he lost consciousness.

**xxx**

It was a clear night, a crescent moon decorating the sky, among the millions of stars.  
The campfire sparked as he absentmindedly added another piece of wood, not noticing the many gazes fixed on him.  
Nobody had said a word about it for the past few hours.

Matsukawa broke the silence, his eyes stood calm, the fire reflecting in his eyes.  
“You have to tell us, Iwaizumi. Where’s Oikawa?”

The only one not present in the circle was Yahaba, who had been sleeping almost nonstop ever since he and Iwaizumi arrived back at the mansion.  
Hanamaki had treated his wounds, and fed him a little bit every time he woke for a few minutes.

Even when the night fell, nobody dared to demand answers.  
Oikawa wasn’t with them when the two came back.  
Was he dead?

Matsukawa couldn’t imagine, but why else would Iwaizumi return without their leader?  
Iwaizumi wouldn’t leave Oikawa behind.  
Unless. . .

“There’s something more to this,” Matsukawa decided.

“We heard the shooting,” Kunimi added, his eyes narrowed as he too, watched Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi knew he had to tell them.  
He’d been tight lipped from the very start, not even telling them about the herd-- though he suspected Hanamaki already knew, as he’d been at Yahaba’s side for hours.

“Is he dead or not?!”   
Kindaichi frustratedly threw his hands in the air, not understanding why their second-in-command, the one who was supposed to step in when Oikawa wasn’t around, wasn’t telling them shit about what happened.

 _Something_ happened, everyone knew.

Iwaizumi didn’t want to talk about it.  
Not when he didn’t know if Oikawa was even still alive.  
On the other hand, this wasn’t fair to his comrades, leaving them in the dark.

“. . . we’d been waiting for a while. We found Yahaba, barely standing, near Shiratorizawa’s border,” Iwaizumi started, and Matsukawa leaned back into the grass with his eyes closed, listening.

“Just when we reached the end of the street, you know, that one that connects to the main road, Oikawa found out that Shiratorizawa had set loose a herd of Walkers behind us.”

To Iwaizumi’s left, Kyoutani raised an eyebrow, scowling, but didn’t interrupt. 

“. . . and you really didn’t think we’d need to know that?” Matsukawa mumbled, sighing.  
Hanamaki nudged him with his leg, “Let him talk.”

“It wasn’t a herd, it was a _sea_ ,” Iwaizumi continued, staring down at his hands, shadows cast by the fire in front of him, “Oikawa said we’d all die if he didn’t do something. And you know. . . he wasn’t wrong.”

“What ridiculous idea did he think up this time, huh?” Kindaichi muttered, shaking his head, “Don’t tell me he sacrificed himself or something stupid like that. . .”

“He decided to reuse Shiratorizawa’s trap to lure the herd into Karasuno’s territory, using sound. Alone. So that me and Yahaba could get to the mansion safely.”

Iwaizumi regretted it.  
Even though he always told himself that, in a world like this, regrets are just as useless as trying to get Oikawa to stop calling him ‘Iwa-chan’, he regretted it.

Regret about turning his back to Oikawa so quickly.  
Regret about giving up on finding another solution so fast.  
Regret about letting him leave so easily.

Iwaizumi always lived with his mistakes.  
He accepted it.  
If something went wrong, he could always blame the world for it.

“. . . _fuck_ ,” he mumbled, his hand reaching up to cover his eyes, turning away from the fire.  
He wasn’t crying.  
Just overwhelmed.

The most painful realisation was that it couldn’t have gone any other way.  
Yahaba couldn’t have gotten to the mansion by himself, and Oikawa would’ve never let Iwaizumi be the one to go solo and lead the herd away instead.

“Well, when’s he coming back?” Hanamaki asked, “I’m guessing, if I get the time frames right, he should’ve reached Karasuno territory by now. He’d have to sit tonight out and rest, and knowing him. . .”

“. . . he’d be up and about as early in the morning as possible, so. . .” Kindaichi filled in.

“. . . Oikawa will be back by tomorrow night,” Kunimi concluded, having curled up a bit closer to the fire, a blanket wrapped around his slender body.

A soft chuckle, and Iwaizumi removed his hand.  
It was phenomenal, how well they knew Oikawa and with it, also Iwaizumi. They tried cheering Iwaizumi up, knowing exactly how to draw the man back from the cage of his own mind, and it worked.

“I bet he’s going to cry,” Kyoutani mumbled, and judging by his facial expression, he was not looking forward to it.

“Oh god,” Matsukawa breathed, “He’s _so_ going to cry.”

“Iwaizumi, you’re our first line of defense,” Kunimi hummed, “Be strong, soldier.”

The flames of the fire rose high up in the sky, crackling softly among the laughter, the multitude of sparks fading into stars.

Aobajohsai awaited their leader’s return with hope.

**xxx**

From an abyss of nothingness, he slowly faded back to consciousness. His mind caught up with everything that had happened in the past few hours, his eyes refusing to open, yet.

His senses came back to him more and more.  
Hearing, smell, and then touch.

Hinata felt sticky finger pads touch his leg every now and then, holding it in place.  
The skin on his thigh tickled.  
Then came the memories, immediately followed by the pain.

His eyes shot open, sitting upright in an instant.  
Blood, blood, his blood.  
Walkers.  
He’d fallen.

Where was he?

“Don’t move, you dumbass!”  
A familiar voice sounded, a large hand roughly pushing Hinata back to lay down again.

Colors appeared around Hinata like a painting in the night, as his eyes got used to his surroundings.

He was in a dark, small room, large cracks rising up and branching, dark spots decorating the walls.  
There was a doorway without a door leading into another room.  
It was empty, except for two bags and a spear in the corner.

A glassless window to his right let through the light of the moon shining high, no cloud masking the stars.

The floor was cold and so was his body, despite a blanket separating him from touching the floor directly.

Someone was sitting cross legged next to him, bowed over Hinata’s lower body, more or less soaked in by the darkness around them.  
Hinata couldn’t see clearly, but the man was holding an item in one hand, focused on the wound on Hinata’s thigh.

The wound.

“Oh god!” Hinata shrieked, sitting upright once again, but careful not to move his lower body too much this time.  
“ _Shut up_ ,” the other hissed, cocking his head to glare at Hinata. The light from the moon glazed along the man’s face, the same blue eyes he saw in his memories gazing back at him.

“Oh, it’s you,” Hinata sighed in relief, “Wait, no! What happened?”

He watched silently as the man steadily moved Hinata’s wounded leg down from his lap onto the blanket.  
He rolled his shoulders, soft cracking of muscles, before leaning back a bit.

“You do remember what happened in that crater, right?” he answered Hinata’s question with one of his own, in a normal voice; oddly calm.

Hinata nodded, of course he did.

“Then you lost consciousness, I got us safely into Johzenji’s place, and I _was_ removing metal pieces out of your wound, until you woke up and interrupted me.”  
He waved a small pair of metal tweezers around.  
The skin around Hinata’s wound was cleaned up, even though it was still a bit red, the swelling and thumping he felt before had died down.

Without this person Hinata would’ve been a soulless Walker by now. Being indebted to someone was a concept you really had to be careful with, and now Hinata is indebted to a stranger.

Hinata recognized a first aid kit next to the man on the ground, where he must’ve gotten the tweezers from.  
Complete first aid kits were one of the rarest items you could get your hands on.  
Who was this person?

“. . . thank you,” Hinata muttered softly.

“What?”  
“What’s your name?” 

“. . . Kageyama,” he answered after a small pause.

“I’m Hinata! Which-- ehm. . .”  
_Which group do you belong to?_

Now that Hinata thought about it a bit longer, this whole situation with Kageyama was extremely strange.  
Johzenji lay within the border of Aobaojohsai.  
Kageyama was within Aobajohsai territory when he saved Hinata.

But Hinata had never heard of his name, or even seen him before.

The two within this small room had to be from opposite groups.  
But there was a second possibility.

“Say, are you even from around Tokyo?” Hinata decided to ask instead, “Did you travel here? Cause I’ve never seen you before. . .”  
Maybe that question was too intrusive.  
“Y-you don’t have to answer if you--”

“. . . It’s not exactly like that,” Kageyama mumbled, looking away out of the window instead.  
“I found out I preferred to live alone, not with a group.”  
“All alone?”  
“All alone.”

Hinata stared at the male, wanting to know more.  
Which group was he from then?   
Shiratorizawa?  
Aobajohsai?  
What happened to make him want to be alone?  
Hinata couldn’t even imagine living by himself, without Karasuno.

“Stop staring! I’m going to continue with your wound, there were a few pieces left,” Kageyama informed him, pulling Hinata’s leg back up without a warning.

“Hey, that hurt!”  
Crossing his arms, he watched Kageyama work without another sound.  
He saw how deep in the tweezers went, and his stomach almost flipped-- but for the sake of avoiding Kageyama’s wrath, he kept his food inside his body.

One, two, three, four more pieces of metal Kageyama pulled out of the wound, before nodding with a satisfied expression.  
The pieces were small, and Hinata wondered how Kageyama even managed to find them if they were burrowed in so deep.

Kageyama’s fingers were covered in blood, but it didn’t seem to bother him. Or at least, he didn’t show it if it did.  
He reached in the first aid kit, took the clean bandage roll and his eyes met Hinata’s again.

“Now,” he gestured towards the wound, “I don’t have a lot of bandage left. You’re going to have to do with this round alone, I can only wrap it once.”

“. . . which means?”  
Hinata was never that interested in medicine and _healing stuff_ . Karasuno’s doctor, if you will, is Kiyoko, an expert with medicine and injuries, having learned a lot about it due to reading various informative books Suga and Daichi brought in once.  
Professional items and medicine were limited and rare though, so more often than not they relied on various herbs from the forest.

Kageyama rolled his eyes.  
“Which means, that the wound can still be infected again easily after a couple of days if you don’t apply a new wrapping, because a wound that deep isn’t going to heal anytime soon.”

Oh.

“Right, I knew that,” Hinata mumbled.

Kageyama unrolled a bit of the bandage, then held it in place right above Hinata’s knee under the wound. Hinata kept as still as possible, going as far as to hold his breath, as Kageyama worked up slowly, unwinding the roll.  
It didn’t hurt as much as it tickled.

A couple of minutes later, a firm, thick layer of bandage covered the wound completely, and it felt _so much_ _better_ than when it was out in the open. Kageyama had wrapped it tightly, but not too tight, and it worked wonders.

“Wow,” Hinata sighed as he breathed out, “ _God_ , that feels--”  
He stopped abruptly when he caught Kageyama looking at him with narrowed eyes.  
“What?”

“What were you doing out and about in the middle of a herd?”

“. . . Well, that herd caught us completely by surprise! I don’t know exactly what happened, but. . . I was ordered to find a safe place to stay for a couple of days.”

Hinata was careful not to give out Daichi or Suga’s names, just in case Kageyama turned out to be someone untrustworthy in the end.   
Even though he saved Hinata.  
He still didn’t know why Kageyama even saved him to begin with.

Kageyama snorted, “You fled from a herd to save your life, yet nearly died anyway.”

“Hey!”  
Hinata balled his fist, “I didn’t know there’d just be a random crater in the middle of the street!”

“You looked extremely dumb, rolling down the slope.”

Hinata wished he could hit the man, but knew it was unwise to try and move around too much.  
“What kind of savior are you, saying stuff like that!”

“‘Savior’?!”  
Kageyama sounded surprised, looked surprised, then quickly turned away and stood up.  
“You stay here.”

“I literally can’t move.”  
“I noticed you had food in your little bag.”  
“You! You peeked?!”

Sauntering over to the bags in the corner, he snatched Hinata’s off the ground, smearing blood all over it.

“Do you think it’d be okay to light a little fire?” Kageyama wondered, completely ignoring Hinata’s cries about invasion of privacy.  
“It’s fucking freezing and we need to keep that wound of yours warm anyway.”

And Hinata agreed, it was fucking freezing.  
“Yeah yeah. They won’t care about seeing smoke back at the orphanage, they’re too busy with the herd or else they’ll probably assume that the fire’s from me.”

“You have a base in an orphanage, huh? ”

Oops.  
Hinata slipped up.  
Well, it wasn’t his fault.  
Despite Kageyama being grumpy and mean to him, Hinata already got used to the bickering, and had warmed up to the other’s presence.  
Or maybe he just suffered from a peculiar case of Stockholm Syndrome.

Kageyama came back out of another room with various pieces of wood in his arms, and dumped them in the middle of the room.  
“Alright. Little fire, just enough so we can cook that food and warm up.”

The fire was huge.  
Due to Hinata pushing to let him throw more and more wood on the pile, then adding more when Kageyama wasn’t looking, and in turn Kageyama not realizing how quickly the fire grew, the dark room had turned into a full on midnight camping site.

The fire lit up the whole room, and it was _amazing_ .  
Shadows danced along flames on the walls, the smoky scent stuck to their clothes and hair and Hinata cuddled up close with the blanket, feeling pure bliss.

“Careful with that blanket, I’d rather it doesn’t go up in flames,” Kageyama said, munching on a piece of meat.  
He’d justified taking half of Hinata’s food by taking it as a thanks for saving him.

Hinata carefully rolled over on his side, instantly feeling the heat scouring his face. The warmth was very welcome though, and he closed his eyes to enjoy it even more.  
The one question he wanted to ask Kageyama from the very start resurfaced, and Hinata decided now was a good time to ask.

“Hey Kageyama, why’d you save me?”

He opened his eyes, and saw Kageyama had frozen up completely, the piece of meat idly hanging in the air.

“I. . . felt responsible,” Kageyama finally answered, vaguely.  
“You fled from the herd that I. . .”

“‘That I’. . .?” Hinata pushed.

Kageyama coughed.  
“Nothing. I saw you fall down, and I couldn’t just let someone die when I could’ve saved them.”

Hinata furrowed his eyebrows, suspicious.

“Don’t think about it too much, or else your tiny brain won’t be able to handle it.”  
“Wh-- _Bakageyama_ ! I’m pretty smart, I bet you don’t know how to _read_ !”  
“I do know.”  
“Hah, that’s what I thou-- what?!”  
“Do you?”

Huffing, Hinata rolled on his back, puffing out his cheeks.  
“. . . I don’t.”

Kageyama snorted, then started laughing, taking Hinata by surprise. His laughter was clear and Hinata found it a pretty laugh.  
Which he didn’t expect either.

_Kageyama had a pretty laugh._

“Shut up, stop laughing at me,” Hinata whined, looking over to see Kageyama splayed out on the floor, holding his stomach.  
It wasn’t _that_ funny, right?!

“God, you’re truly a _dumbass_ ,” Kageyama stated for the umpteenth time in the few hours they met, rubbing his eyes.  
“I don’t get why you’re good at so many things,” HInata continued in an annoyed tone, yet a smile tugged on his lips nonetheless.

“Don’t you have people in your group that can teach you? How to read, I mean,” Kageyama asked after he was done rolling around, finding joy in Hinata’s demise.

“We have three people who can read,” Hinata replied, “One doesn’t have time, the second I don’t want to bother, the third is an asshole.”  
He hissed as he shifted his weight on the wounded side of his body on accident, turning back to face Kageyama once again.  
He really needed to stop moving around, though he blamed Kageyama for edging him on so much.

“I could teach you. . . maybe.”

Hinata’s eyes widened, Kageyama avoided them.  
“You would?! Really?”

“Only if you come hunting with me every now and then. Once your wound is healed, of course. . .”

Hinata would love to hunt with Kageyama, actually.  
He wanted to see Kageyama in action again, but preferably without bleeding out.

Nodding enthusiastically, he saw a satisfied smile appeared on Kageyama’s face.

“Okay, good, good,” Kageyama hummed, “Go to sleep. When you wake up again, we’re gonna figure out what the fuck we should do for the next few days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	5. Deceiving Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This current one and the next chapter are a bit longer than the usual average, but I don't think anyone minds.

They could reach the orphanage before the herd did, but they’d have to act fast.  
Reinforce the fence, create vantage points for better aim, and board up weaknesses in their defense.

This was going to be a twisted game of defense and endurance first and foremost, but they couldn’t forget to strategically set up ways to attack when needed.

“Come on, Suga!”  
The two men sprinted through the many alleyways, their hearts beating along their footsteps.  
The two were much faster than the herd, and the many twists and turns the alleyway maze provided, slowed it down even further.  
If Suga and Daichi didn’t know every nook and cranny of the maze, one wrong turn could still lead to them trapping themselves.

“The herd can’t fit in its entirety through the alleyways,” Suga said, “We’re going to have to prepare for a very, very long night ahead. . .”

Daichi nodded, “It’s an advantage and a disadvantage, like anything is in Tokyo.”

They wouldn’t be flattened by a gigantic hoard breaking down their fences by sheer volume, but this meant the slew of Walkers would trickle out of the alleyway all night, and probably all day tomorrow as well.  
This way Karasuno did have more control over the amount of Walkers at all times.

Of course, luck also played a factor in it all.

The herd would hopefully thin out and stray into the other alleyways that didn’t lead directly to the orphanage, instead leading them elsewhere in the neighborhood.

Stepping out into the plaza in front of the orphanage, Suga leaned forward, leaning on his knees, panting. He glanced up at Daichi, who pushed on and approached the orphanage.  
Quickly, he followed.

Worried.  
For Hinata.  
Suga prayed that nobody of their group had left to go hunt or scavenge while he, Hinata and Daichi were out.

From behind the iron fence, Yamaguchi waved at them, Tsukishima simply observed the two.

“Hurry up, we have an emergency!” Daichi barked at them, a bit harsher than he wanted it to sound.   
Yamaguchi’s expression faltered slowly as he and Tsukishima removed the barricade, letting Suga and Daichi in.

“Where’s Hinata?” Yamaguchi asked, looking behind them to check for the ginger.

“They finally ditched him somewhere, should’ve done that much earlier,” Tsukishima mumbled, earning him a frightening glare from Daichi.  
The latter was not in the mood for this right now.

“Hinata’s safe,” Daichi said confidently, hurrying through the garden to the door, beckoning for Yamaguchi and Tsukishima to follow him as well.  
“But we might not be.”

“Yamaguchi, are Noya and Asahi back from hunting yet?” Suga asked as they walked through the hallway, to the living room.  
Daichi had sent Tsukishima to find and bring everyone together.

Yamaguchi shook his head, sending another waving of anxiety through Suga’s body.  
“ _Shit_ , okay--”

With a worried look in his eyes, Yamaguchi glanced at the fidgeting Suga, after they both sat down on one of the couches.  
He didn’t ask any more questions, they’d all be answered soon.

Within a minute, everyone had gathered in front of the hearth.  
Daichi had already explained the essentials to Ukai, with whom he was fervently talking to as they entered.

Everyone settled.  
Kiyoko, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Ukai, Daichi, Suga and Tanaka.  
Three people less than they would’ve liked.

Suga stood up.  
Right in the middle of the room, he could see their expressions.  
Confused, serious, worried.

“Oikawa Tooru from Aobajohsai lead a Walker herd into our territory.”

He saw the change.  
Disbelief, anger, uncertainty.

“Are you serious?!”  
Tanaka gritted his teeth, “That _motherfucker--_ ”

Yamaguchi whispered something to Tsukishima, who gave a curt nod in reply.

“We sent Hinata to find a safe place to hide with food and water, he couldn’t get to us in time. Noya and Asahi. . . may find themselves in the middle of the herd. We absolutely cannot leave this orphanage for now, we just. . . have to believe in them.”

Sugawara Koushi felt so many things.  
Every word he said felt like a seal to their fate.  
Three of their group, were not with them.

And a herd was heading straight for the orphanage.

“The first Walkers will reach us in two hours, tops,” Daichi took over from the clearly distressed Suga, “We need that time to strengthen our defense the best we can. Check for any weaknesses in the fences, use all our resources to board it up.”

“We need to set up a schedule in relation to being on lookout, resting and patrolling. Kiyoko, you’re going to be responsible for timing the exchanges and making sure to check if the ones on duty have everything they need like food and ammunition.”

Ukai replaced Suga in the middle of the room, his voice clear.

Daichi placed his larger hand over Suga’s, his thumb gently rubbing across his knuckles.  
The gesture reassured Suga greatly, as if taking over some of his worries.

Ukai nodded to himself, his frown deepening.  
Everyone was silent, looking on in anticipation.

“We will work in pairs, rotating every two hours. Sugawara, Sawamura. Yamaguchi, Tsukishima. Me, Tanaka.”

Kiyoko wrote it down as he spoke, setting up a chart.

“First on guard duty, Sugawara and Sawamura. You have heard and you’ve seen the herd. The second you even suspect the herd is nearby, inform me."

Daichi nodded, silently relaxing a bit now that they were not wasting any time.  
They could get through this, if they did it right.   
This may be the largest herd they ever dealt with.  
He knew.  
But he trusted everyone in this room in a heartbeat, and so they were going to survive the longest night of their lives.

Daichi thought about Hinata, Noya and Asahi.  
If the group here didn’t live through this herd, the three of them would find the orphanage overrun, their comrades dead.  
They’d be alone.

Daichi couldn’t let that happen.

“Tsukishima, Yamaguchi. Try to get any sleep in on the first rotation. We have a long night ahead, you’ll need it.”

Yamaguchi slowly nodded, glancing over at the blonde in the chair next to him. He was relieved, he worked best with Tsukishima out of everyone in the group, despite his standoffish attitude.

“Pardon me, but do we have enough ammo?”  
Tsukishima’s sharp eyes held Ukai’s, who sighed softly.

“We don’t. We cannot kill all of the herd. I think rule should be to only kill if the Walkers seem to gang up on certain spots in the defense. Thin them out if they cluster. If they do break through, we’ll immediately abandon the ground floor.”

Tsukishima wasn’t satisfied.  
“How many arrows and bullets do we have?”

Yamaguchi murmured, “We don’t have time--”  
“Shut up, Yamaguchi. This is important information. We need to ration ammo if there’s a shortage.”  
“Sorry, Tsukki. . .”

“We won’t be using any of the guns, yet. We’ll only use bows and arrows due to the distance, but be sure to have one or more close-combat weapons with you, just in case. Again, only kill if necessary. Kiyoko will make sure there’s always ammo ready.”

“And when we do inevitably run out?”

“We take as much resources as we can, abandon the ground and first floor, block the stairs and _pray_.”

With a huff, Tsukishima pushed up his glasses, closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, continuing to listen.  
Ukai turned to Tanaka.

“You and I, are on first patrol. We circle around the orphanage, checking if Walkers aren’t breaking through. Both the guards and the patrols are viable to kill Walkers.”

“Where are the guards stationed?” Dachi asked.

“On the balcony looking out towards the alleyways, while the patrol stays on the ground around the orphanage. Any other questions?”

“How should the guards inform the patrols if there’s a potential breakthrough?”  
Tanaka had jumped up, rolling his shoulders.  
He felt confident enough, prepared for a mentally and physically exhausting night.

“Ah, yes,” Ukai nodded, “Preferably we should still try and make the least noise possible. But. . . just fucking scream for assistance.”

“Just fucking scream, huh,” Daichi muttered, standing up as well. He pulled Suga up from the couch, taking a deep breath through his teeth.

“Alright. Let’s go outside and reinforce our defenses.”

It took them an hour to do exactly that, adding wood planks and metal plates to weaker spots in the fence surrounding the orphanage, the only thing separating them from being overrun.  
The old fence protected them many of times before.

The sun had set, the night breeze starting up.

It was eerily silent all around.

The air had a feeling of finality to it.

A showdown waiting to happen.

A showdown between the living and the dead.

Brushing a few strands of silver hair out of the way, tucking it behind his ear, Daichi cupped the side of Suga’s face.  
“We’re going to get through this. For Nishinoya, Asahi and Hinata. For everyone.”

Suga slowly nodded, “For Karasuno.”

“That’s right,” Daichi hummed, a smile spread across his lips, “For Karasuno.”

Hand in hand, they walked up the stairs to the first floor.  
“You got enough arrows?”  
“Yup. Besides that, I also have a few knives.”  
“Your arrow accuracy is fantastic, I don’t think you’re going to use those knives often.”

Suga smiled, “I’d say eight or nine out of ten times, it’s a hit. It could be better. . .”

Daichi softly squeezed his hand.  
“Don’t say that. There’s nobody with a better aim here.”

Sliding the glass see-through doors to the side, they entered onto the balcony.  
They could see across the fence, onto the plaza and into the alleyways.

They were either going to meet the next sunrise alive and victorious, or as soulless Walkers.

It all came down to this first night.

Tomorrow, the herd would’ve thinned out a lot, moving onto whatever was next in their path.  
A Walker’s attention span was limited.

Suga licked his lips, hearing his heart thumping in his ears, watching the alleyway.  
Butterflies in his stomach.  
It wasn’t a fun feeling at all.

Below the balcony, he saw Ukai and Tanaka walking out into the garden, murmuring to each other.  
Looking to his right at Daichi’s profile, he had his eyes closed, his scarred hand resting on the balcony railing trembling slightly.

Suga slid his hand up Daichi’s arm, leaning onto him.  
“. . . I’m with you.”

Daichi opened his eyes.  
He covered Suga’s hand with his own, enclosing pale, slender fingers in his grasp.  
“I know. There’s nowhere safer than at your side.”

Suga silently smiled.  
He felt the same.  
After a bit, he asked the one burning question he had.

“. . . Hey, why do you think Oikawa did it?”

“When we saw him, he looked so. . . complete. Fulfilled. And crazy.”  
Daichi looked out onto the plaza, remembering the sight of the rival leader.  
“Nothing happens without a reason. I’m sure Oikawa had one too.”

“Right,” Suga nodded, “But I won’t forgive him.”

“Neither will I.”

Ten minutes passed.  
The darkness of the night had fallen over Tokyo like a thick yet cold blanket.

Suga felt more uneasy every second that passed.  
Just as he opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ , as if on cue, distant rumbling came clearly from the alleyway in front of them.

Suga swallowed.  
He let go of Daichi’s hand, and reached up to the quiver on his back.  
He took one arrow.

Suga placed the arrow, pulling back the string.  
He aimed deadset at the alleyway.

Daichi’s eyebrows furrowed, intensely focused.  
He felt his pulse quicken.

A decaying hand clamped around the corner of the wall, and out of the alleyway, stepped a Walker.  
Then another came up from right behind.  
One more.  
A fourth.  
Until the whole alleyway was filled, and the herd flooded onto the plaza, spreading out.

Suga’s eyes shifted to find Daichi’s, and within that split second they met, a silent agreement was made.  
He released the string.

The arrow flew over the fence and pierced through the chest of the first Walker, and it tumbled down.  
Immediately, it got trampled by the ones following its lead.

Ukai looked up at the balcony.

“Here they are,” Daichi whispered, before taking a deep breath.  
_“The herd is here!”_

Walkers slammed their bodies against the iron fence, reaching through the gaps with their arms.  
Some missed part of their face, limbs, had a hole in their stomach or chest, organs bulging out between broken bones and rotten flaps of flesh or all of the above.

But Karasuno was used to it.  
The living were used to the dead, they didn’t know any better.  
Despite the traumatic imagery, nobody bat an eye at the sight.  
They were far too focused on keeping their defenses standing.

At least for once, the weather wasn’t working against them.  
If it rained, they would’ve been fucked.  
Because anytime it rained, it wasn’t just a short shower.  
No, it’d be a _storm_.

Daichi spotted a group of Walkers attempting to climb over each other to reach over the fence; the ones doing the climbing were Thinkers.

Ukai and Tanaka joined them in pushing back the Thinkers before they could fall over into the garden.  
It was just one mistake that could mean the end of a life.

Firing another arrow, Suga had temporarily forgotten about his worries about the three missing Karasuno members.  
His mind solely focused on aiming, drawing back, shooting.  
Repeat and repeat.

Daichi on the other hand, did not fight.  
He was a horrible archer, and they couldn’t afford to waste any arrows in trying.  
Instead, he pointed out minute but necessary details; where Walkers were grouping up, one of the planks coming loose, or the arrival of Thinkers in a certain spot.  
He showed Suga where to aim in the tangled mess of the undead, so that Suga didn’t have to seek it out himself.

The thumping against the fence, the wood, the metal, the pavement.  
It reached Suga’s mind, droned, buzzing, until he couldn’t hear the groaning of the Walkers anymore.

Suga started to feel tired.  
He and Daichi hadn’t gotten any rest since arriving back from their excursion with Hinata.  
His arm felt heavy, significantly impacting his reflexes, even though he tried so hard.

They managed to kill off the Thinkers, some of their bodies stuck on top of the fence.  
Ukai and Tanaka continued to thin out the small cluster of Walkers left behind.

Daichi greeted Kiyoko, who entered the room behind them leading to the balcony. She gave a small nod.  
“First rotation is over. Ukai wants you two to rest now. He and Tanaka will replace you here, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are on the next patrol.”

Which meant that when Suga and Daichi would be on patrol, they’d work together with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi on the balcony, watching over them.

Suga breathed a sigh in relief, wiping cold sweat off his forehead.  
Any longer and his aim would start to show mistakes.

“Two hours really is the perfect amount,” Daichi mumbled, setting the bottle of water Kiyoko handed him to his lips, taking a few refreshing, large gulps before giving the bottle to Suga.  
“Any longer and I’d topple over the railing.”

“I will wake you up in two hours. You don’t have to worry about the time, just try and get some sleep in,” Kiyoko said as all three of them exited the balcony room.

“. . . You did well,” she added, before turning around and disappearing down the stairs, to inform Ukai and Tanaka about the new rotation.

Suga smiled a bit.  
_We did well._

Daichi yawned, sluggishly opening the door to his room.  
He paused to look back at Suga.  
“That’s the first two hours down. Twenty-two more to go,” he huffed.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Suga weakly wagging his finger at him, his eyes half-lidded, “Don’t you remind me of that, good sir.”

Daichi chuckled softly.  
“See you in two hours, Suga. Good night.”

And with that, he entered his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Suga’s bedroom was directly to the left of Daichi’s.  
A yawn escaped him now as well, as he entered the room and fell onto the bed.

The soft mattress and worn pillow felt like heaven to him.  
The moment his head hit the pillow it took all his willpower to kick off his shoes and lift his legs up, writhing around underneath the blanket.  
He couldn’t be bothered to change out of his clothing; besides, he only had two hours before he had to go out again.

Suga closed his eyes, and instantly fell asleep.

Tonight, Karasuno would either fly or fall.

**xxx**

Sullen faces surrounded him.   
They were all tired.  
Nobody felt like moving, hunting, scavenging.

This past month destroyed them almost completely.  
A string of unlucky situations, meetings and timings.

They used to be a group of eight people.  
Originally, long ago, they were with ten.

Shiratorizawa cut the group in half within a month, including one suicide.  
Only four left.

Kuroo should’ve known when the second person in a row got killed by Shiratorizawa.  
He should’ve known that they were targeting Nekoma.  
Shiratorizawa’s goal was clear to him now, but it was too late.

He felt movement to his right.  
Kenma laid his head against his shoulder, hiding his face away.

The soft, rhythmic bouncing of the boat was deceivingly peaceful, small waves crashing against the side a vague sense of comfort.

“I can’t believe we didn’t notice.”  
The short male eyeing Kuroo from the other side of the room said, sitting up straight, his short, light brown hair messy.  
His hands were entwined on his lap.

“They were picking us off from the very start,” Lev mumbled.  
The scar along the side of his face, nearly touching his eye, was proof of his own near death experience by the hands of Shiratorizawa.

“What now, Kuroo?” Yaku asked, “What will we do now?”

Kuroo didn’t answer immediately.  
His grip tightened slightly around Kenma’s shoulder, a sigh escaping his lips.  
“. . . I don’t know. I, honest to god, don’t fucking know.”

What could they do?  
The amount of loss they suffered, the blood they’ve seen flow in such a small amount of time was _unfathomable_ .

Kuroo was at the end of his wits, exhausted and emotionally drained.

“We need to continue on,” Kenma mumbled, finally facing the others.  
“That’s what we’re going to do. But we can’t do this alone anymore. With just the four of us, we’re going to starve.”

“You’re suggesting we should seek help,” Kuroo stated, closing his eyes, frowning.  
“. . . Fukurodani is our ally, but we haven’t heard of them in weeks. . .”

Yaku nodded, “Shiratorizawa may have gotten to them already.”

“No way,” Lev shook his head, “We all know what Bokuto is capable of, especially with Akaashi on his side. Those two wouldn’t let it get that far. Right?”

“Right,” Kenma nodded, “But they might have suffered losses just like us.”

Lev jumped up, “Ouch!” as his head knocked into the ceiling of the small yacht.

Kuroo couldn’t help but snort, “You’ve been living in this ship for over two years, yet you still hit your head every other time you stand up.”

Rubbing his head, Lev pouted.  
“. . . anyway, I think maybe we should contact Fukurodani. It’s not like we’re gonna do anything useful if we--”

From his place on the couch, Yaku kicked in Lev’s shin, effectively shutting him up safe for a pained whimper.  
“Shut up. Though I do agree.”

“Then why--” Lev cried out, flopping back next to Yaku, looking at the older male like a literal kicked puppy.

Kuroo hummed, his cheek resting on Kenma’s head.  
“What do you think?” he mumbled, “Should we all just say ‘Fuck it’ and go on a trek into Fukurodani territory?”

Kenma barely moved, but Kuroo detected from that one movement, that he had nodded.

**xxx**

Tightening the hind legs of the two hares together with a rope, Noya grinned proudly.  
“We officially beat Tanaka this week with today’s hunt! That’ll teach that baldy!”

He tied the hares to the bag on Asahi’s back.

Asahi stared at the ground uncomfortably, but let Noya do his work. He did not like hunting and killing animals, but at least he knew Noya killed the hares swiftly and in one go.

“Sun’s almost gone, we gotta hurry back! They’re gonna be super happy with us!”

“Right. . .”  
Asahi followed as Noya skipped through the forest, his energy on the same level as this morning, even after a whole day out hunting.  
A nervous feeling fluttered in his stomach, and he couldn’t shake it off.  
_Something_ was off, he knew.  
But he didn’t know _what_.

The last rays of sun shone through the thick pack of leaves on the trees, leaving patches of light all around.  
Birds twittered one more song before they also settled down for the night.

The scent of the forest had always been calming to Asahi, as they passed herbs, flowers, and small river streams, mixed together in a familiar forest smell.  
Still, he couldn’t wait to get back to the orphanage safely.

He thought about his little garden behind the orphanage, and how some of the vegetables showed promising progression.  
Small buds peeking through the dark sand, greeting the sun, and Asahi protected them as best as he could.

Last year, disaster had struck as a very heavy storm tore the plants out of the ground, and the whole garden was ruined.  
He wouldn’t let it happen again.

Stepping through the last row of trees, Noya greeted him with a smile, jumping off the piece of debris he’d been standing on top of.  
“I still wish we could’ve caught a deer, but hares are fine too.”

Asahi was happy with the hares.  
If they managed to kill a deer, that meant he’d have to carry most of the animal back to the hideout, and he’d be very against doing that.

“What do you think Suga, Daichi and Hinata discovered today?” Asahi asked, as the two of them walked down the street.

Noya’s eyes lit up, and Asahi could see imagination practically bursting out of him.

“Maybe they discovered a secret underground meat factory!”  
“A. . . meat factory?”  
“Or a gigantic mutant deer!”  
“A mutant deer?!”  
“Oooh, or perhaps a hidden, most deadliest weapon against Walkers!”  
“. . . that would be great.”

They continued on for a bit, until Asahi noticed it.

“Hey, Yuu. . . ?”  
“What ‘bout a giant cockroa-- yeah?”

Asahi nodded towards the main road in the distance.  
“Aren’t there a lot more Walkers than usual. . . ?”

With his hand above his eyes, Noya peered into the direction Asahi pointed him at, squinting his eyes.  
“. . . Oh, maybe you’re right.”

So Asahi wasn’t going crazy.  
That was one reassurance.

“D-do you think something _bad_ happened?”

Noya simply shrugged.  
“Dunno. We won’t find out if we keep standing here, so let’s go and see what’s up!”

Asahi sighed.  
Noya was far too carefree, always worrying Asahi whenever he did something reckless again.

They didn’t want to attract any unwanted Walker attention though, so they both kept closely to the side of the street.

It became obvious soon to them that, indeed, there were indeed a lot more Walkers than usual.  
A _lot_ more.

“. . . let’s go hide somewhere safe,” Asahi decided, and Noya knew by the tone of his voice he wasn’t going to be able to protest with success.

“Isn’t this a herd? Did Tsukishima mispredict?” Noya mumbled.

The two diverted from the street, horizontally walking against the direction the herd moved towards, a safe distance away.

“I hope the others are safe.”

Asahi and Noya would have to sit this one out together.  
God knows what happened to cause a herd to enter their territory like this, and Asahi would prefer not to think about it.

Noya didn’t look like he was worried, but Asahi knew that he was.  
Despite knowing their friends most likely had some sort of way to combat this herd, it still made them feel uneasy.  
They were all probably safe.  
Right?

The herd was now out of their sight, the vague moaning disappeared.  
Noya checked through windows of houses and buildings if one was eligible to stay in and be safe from the Walkers, while Asahi simply followed.

“Dammit! These houses are absolutely useless!” Noya grumbled, “No wonder that everyone died and became a Walker if their houses were as weakly protected as this.”

Most houses around had many windows, broken doors or had simply collapsed into itself after years of deterioration.

They arrived at a T-junction.  
All these houses seemed to be traditional family homes.  
They needed a place high up, with preferably two exits and no windows.

Luck, however, hadn’t favored them this time.

Asahi heard a _thump_ to his left, out of the opposite alleyway they came from.  
Noya hadn’t noticed, and continued to mutter about the houses in the neighborhood.

Asahi’s heart skipped a beat as he turned to look, only to immediately freeze completely.  
Out of the shadows stepped a Walker child, groaning softly with her tiny arm stretched out, limping.  
Then slowly more came.

He stepped back, his eyes wide as he looked for Noya.  
A few feet away, he saw Noya staring in front of him with the same expression Asahi currently wore.

It was just as easy as that.

They were trapped between houses that gave no protection, dead set in the middle of a T-junction.

They had underestimated the width of the herd.

Simple carelessness.  
How could they know?

But simple carelessness goes a long away if you make a calculation mistake.  
Or maybe they had been too assuming.  
Thinking that, this herd would be the same as any other they encountered in the past.

How Asahi wished he could turn back time till before they strayed from the street, away from the tiny fraction of the herd they saw on the main road.

By looking for a safe place they forgot one of the most important rules.

And only then Asahi understood how much of a mistake they had made by not keeping an eye on the herd.

They didn’t have much time to think.

“Asahi, let’s go back the way we--”

But that way was blocked as well.

The two were completely surrounded by the Walkers, and Asahi realised that the amount around them, was only a fraction of the entire herd.  
He hadn’t even thought about the possibility of this herd, looking like any other, being in fact, a _mega herd_ .  
Neither had Noya.

Noya licked his bottom lip, his eyes shifting around in an attempt to find a way to escape.

From all sides, Walkers inched towards them.  
Past the street lanterns and the wooden fences surrounding the houses.

Were they both going to die here, because of one oversight?

Asahi tightened his grip around the straps of the bag, his whole body trembling.

Helpless.

“. . . up the roof. Asahi, we just have to climb on one of roofs of the houses. We can just--”  
Noya’s voice was hoarse, devoid of hope.

It broke Asahi to hear him sound like that.  
Just a few minutes ago, they were casually looking for a place to stay, not knowing the herd was much, much larger than they thought.  
Not realising they were walking right into their rotten arms.

Just like that.  
It had only taken a few minutes to go from peaceful to deadly.

There was no way they could get on top of one of the roofs.  
Neither were tall enough, and even the tallest person in their group wouldn’t be able to reach the gutter and pull themselves up.

Well, there was one way.  
And one outcome.

“Noya, let’s go,” Asahi briskly said, heading towards the currently only house standing in the street that they could reach at this point; Walkers were only a few meters away from them. Some got stuck behind the fences of the houses next door, buying them some time.

Noya simply nodded, following him like a lost puppy.  
He had no idea what to do, his mind running blank.

Asahi was no fighter.  
He hated violence, he disliked blood.  
Though nobody Karasuno ever told him, Asahi was the weakest link.  
And he knew he was.  
He wasn’t useful at all, especially not in relation to Daichi, or Suga, Kiyoko or Noya-- anyone.

They could fight, they knew tactics, they could write and they could run.  
Asahi couldn’t.

If it had to end someday, Asahi at least wanted to be useful once.

It was his fault for underestimating the herd.  
He should’ve known better.  
Should’ve taken the usual precautions.  
But he hadn’t.

Once they safely reached the house, Asahi took the bag off his back and handed it to Noya, who took it, confused.  
“Noya, get on the roof, hurry.”

He bent down on one knee into the mud, near the wall of the house, holding out his hands together as a stepping stone.

“. . . what? What do you mean?"

Asahi had to take advantage of Noya’s confusion.

“I’ll follow you right after. Get on the roof.”  
He glanced behind Noya, keeping an eye on the herd.

Smiling gently, he nodded at his short friend.  
“Come on. Hurry.”

Noya finally seemed to understand the situation.  
“. . . Promise me you’ll follow?”

“Promise,” Asahi gave another nod, repositioning himself.

With the bag on his back, Noya took a deep breath and took a few steps back.  
In his short sprint he used Asahi’s hands as a jumping board, Asahi also putting extra force in when Noya launched himself off his hands.

Grabbing onto the gutter of the roof, with a strained huff, Noya pulled himself up. Excited once again, coursing with adrenaline, now that they had a plan, he proudly smiled as he turned around to help Asahi up.  
Laying down flat on the roof, he held out his small hand towards his friend.  
“Come on!”

Asahi stood up, breathing a shaky sigh, before looking up at Noya above.  
“Noya, make sure to get to the orphanage, okay? Can you promise me?”  
“Yup! Hey, Asahi-- you have to hurry up, they’re right behind you. . .”

Asahi’s heart felt like beating out of his chest, a shiver running down his body as he turned his back to Noya’s stretched out hand.

He nearly collapsed where he stood, his legs shaking.  
He swallowed.

“Asahi?”

That nervousness slowly disappeared, as the Walkers entered the garden.  
An unusual calmness came over the man, closing his eyes for a brief second.

“I could never get up the roof, Noya. You’re strong, but even you can’t pull me up. You know that, right?”

Asahi couldn’t look back at Noya, or he might regret his decision.  
He might cry.  
And he didn’t want Noya to see him like that.

Nishinoya had known.   
Somewhere, deep in his heart, he’d known.  
Confusion, desperation and instincts had clouded that knowledge, though.  
He couldn’t properly _think_ in this life or death situation.

Usually always so confident, but his rationality had betrayed him when he needed it the most.

“This was the only way. Either both of us die here, or only I do.”

Slowly, Noya realised.  
It took awhile for his mind to catch up to everything that happened in the time frame of five minutes.

“No, no, Asahi. You can-- I’ll pull you up! Please!”

But Asahi just smiled sadly to himself, shaking his head.  
“Get to the orphanage when it’s safe, Yuu.”

“Asahi, no! You promised!”  
Noya reached out as far as he could, panic rushing through his body.  
“You promised you’d follow!”

Asahi would never be able to see that smile again.  
Never Noya’s blonde tuft of hair, never how his eyes gleamed at the tiniest discoveries.

But exactly for the sake of all of those things, for Noya to live so that he could continue to smile, Asahi stormed forward into the Walkers.  
Never to look back again.

Tears fell as he was bitten into over and over again, cold hands grabbing him and tearing off pieces of flesh off of his arms, his legs.  
The Walkers soon completely swallowed him, pushing him to the ground as they ate and ate.

The last thing he heard was Nishinoya’s choked scream, his cry of pain and powerlessness ringing into Asahi’s ears as he died alone.

**xxx**

“One of the leftovers from Nekoma committed suicide two days ago. I followed him when I found him wandering around in their territory, alone. I saw it happen, so sad.”  
Tendou did not look sorrowful in the slightest.

“That’s what happens when you kill half of someone’s group,” Goshiki shrugged, glancing over at the redhead spread out on the carpet a few feet away.

“He jumped off a building!” Tendou cried out, his eyes shifting over to intensely stare at Semi, exuding malice.  
Semi ignored him, continuing to read the old magazine.

“His organs splattered all over the place,” Tendou continued, keeping his gaze on Semi, “Soon enough a Walker started eating his intestines! Then some more came and chomped down on a piece of his leg, another one took one of his eyes and it burst--”

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” Semi hissed, scrunching the magazine between his fingers, “You’re _disgusting_. . . If only you followed that guy’s lead.”

“Now that,” Tendou hummed, rolling over, “is mean, Semisemi. Hoping for such a thing. . .”  
Lankily standing up, he creeped towards the couch Semi rested on. The latter squinted his eyes, tensing slightly.

“ _A-po-lo-gize_ ,” Tendou whispered, honing in on the ash blonde.

The door opened, and Shirabu entered.  
“Satori, Ushijima wants to know why you let loose two of the Runners in the cells.”  
He sauntered over to Semi, who made room for him to sit on the couch next to him.

Turning away from Semi, Tendou met Shirabu’s condescending gaze.  
“. . . it was just an experiment.”

“I don’t care. Ushijima wants to know, not me.”

Sighing loudly, Tendou rolled his eyes and slowly moved away from the couch over to the door, swirling through and slamming it shut behind him.

“Can we please all team up together and feed Tendou to his own ‘experiments’?” Semi grumbled, draping his arms around Shirabu.  
“I don’t want to share this building any longer with that _psychopath_.”

“Try and deal with it, he’s going to get himself killed anytime now,” Shirabu replied, “He’s going to burn himself, fooling around with _fire_ all the time.”

He pinched one of Semi’s darkened hair tips between his fingers, playing with it absentmindedly.

“That’s what you’ve been saying for years now, and yet he’s still here.”

“It’s not like Ushijima’s going to let you get rid of him anyways,” Goshiki joined, leaning forward in his chair.  
“Tendou’s saved all of us at least once, that’s why he keeps him around.”

Semi clicked his tongue.  
Goshiki was right, Tendou was useful, despite his weird antics and questionable experiments.

Burying his face into Shirabu’s copper hair, he sighed.  
“. . . I swear to god, if he brings in a Walker into my room one more time. . .”

“Stop forgetting to lock the door, then,” Shirabu said.

“Who in their right mind leads a _Walker_ into their fellow group member’s _bedroom_ at midnight?! As an ‘experiment’!”  
Semi took a deep breath after that outburst.  
His hotheadedness showed through again, despite his usual calm demeanor.  
He should’ve been used to Tendou’s. . . irrational choices, by now.

But as a rational person himself, he simply couldn’t understand what went on in that man’s head.

Tendou was as unpredictable as any given day in their lives was.  
Any given day where its unpredictability was amplified by said redhead.  
Kind of like a neverending loop.

Shirabu turned to look up, resting against Semi’s chest.  
“I’ll join you tonight in your room, so you won’t have to worry about any Walkers, or Tendou, for that matter. Deal?”

It took a second for Semi to realise the implications, looking down at Shirabu with a blank expression.

“. . . Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	6. Lonely Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter!  
> Decided to upload a day early because I've been writing too fast and I'm currently 3 chapters ahead--  
> Also, this is personally one of my favorite chapters yet, but I'd love to know what you think of it!

Hinata woke up due to the horrible itching laced with a sting on his thigh.  
The campfire from the night before was reduced to a faintly glowing heap, the wood ash black.  
The sun shone brightly, and one would think it to be a normal day, if they were unable to hear the sounds.  
Groaning, hissing and soft thumping of many Walkers reached Hinata’s ears from outside.

The air was cool and a blessing for his burning skin, though Hinata felt like ripping the bandages off and scratch like his life depended on it.  
He resisted the urge.

Instead, he focused on Kageyama.  
Sitting in the window frame, he perfectly blocked the sun from shining directly into Hinata’s face, and Hinata wondered-- was it on purpose?

Kageyama hadn’t struck Hinata as a thoughtful person, but then again, he couldn’t deny that the man knew what he was doing, most of the time.  
Would he be that considerate for someone who he saved only a day prior, and who’s been nothing but a liability?

That’s what Hinata was.  
A liability.  
And he knew it.

Kageyama’s elbow rested on his knee, and in turn his chin on the back of his hand, his other leg swinging outside the window.  
Hinata could only see one side of his face, and he noticed a darkened rim underneath Kageyama’s eye.  
Had he even slept at all?

An involuntary yawn left Hinata’s mouth, betraying him to Kageyama, who turned towards him.

“Finally awake? It’s already early afternoon.”  
Kageyama looked back outside again.  
“You drool in your sleep.”

“I do not!”  
Wiping the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand, Hinata couldn’t believe he thought Kageyama to be kind just a moment before.  
“Careful not to fall out of that window. I know you haven’t slept at all.”

Kageyama simply hummed, not in the mood for an argument that would inevitably turn into more insulting than actual arguing.  
“It’s paranoia that keeps me awake at night,” he declared.

“What, you think I’m going to strangle you in your sleep?” Hinata snorted, “I can’t even stand up.”

Kageyama shook his head.  
“Not that. I’ve just. . . Nobody’s really been around me for months now. This close. . . I can’t just. . . go to sleep like that. Besides. . .”

His eye shifted back to Hinata.  
“. . . I only have one blanket.”

Now Hinata truly didn’t know what to make of Kageyama anymore.

Was he nice?  
Mean?  
Cold?  
Thoughtful?

Kageyama was all of it.  
Yet some overshadowed others.

“You’re really not that bad after all,” Hinata decided, straightening the blanket carefully, avoiding brushing against his wound.

“ _Considering_ I saved your ass, I would hope so,” Kageyama retorted, swinging his leg back inside and sliding off the frame.

“When are you going to stop using that as a reason?!”  
“Till death do us _a-fucking-part_.”

That silenced Hinata.  
Kageyama implied that he at least wasn’t going to abandon Hinata then, right?  
Or was Hinata looking into it too much?

Oddly enough though, warmth pooled inside his chest, and he started to fiddle with his shirt.  
From the corner of his eyes he saw Kageyama add a few small pieces of wood to the fire, blowing into the glow in an attempt to rekindle the flames.  
Slowly, the small spark caught on and set one of the pieces on fire, and Kageyama watched in satisfaction as a small fire burned again.

Hinata saw the ecstatic feeling of accomplishment spread on Kageyama’s expression, he looked so happy with himself.  
Unintentionally, Hinata smiled at the sight.

Then Kageyama’s voice cut into Hinata’s train of thought.  
“From what I’ve seen, the Walkers are going to be around for at least two more days,” he said, grabbing both bags out of the corner this time, “So we need to ration our food. We can get through it, but diet will consist out of mainly berries and meat.”

“Berries? Also, what about water?”

“Leftover berries I got from the forest,” Kageyama replied, “And we _would_ have two bottles of water, but I used one to clean your wound.”

Kiyoko always pushed everyone to remember how important it was to properly clean a wound, as it did happen that someone got injured while out and about without her to help, so Hinata simply nodded in agreement.

“Then we’re not that bad off,” Hinata added, though the water would have to be very carefully rationed.  
“We’re not, as long as I can go out to hunt again within two days.”  
“Ah.”

Out of his own, larger bag, Kageyama took a plastic container and opened it, picking out a purple berry and popping it into his mouth.  
He bent down next to Hinata, and held the container out to him.

It was filled to the brim with the same berries.  
The fruit looked delicious, but Hinata was wary.

In Karasuno, they avoided berries like the plague after Tanaka threw up for three days straight after eating some wild ones he found in the forest.  
Without a proper guide, they weren’t going to risk poisoning themselves, so they left berries alone from then on out.

“You just saw me eating one, they’re not poisonous,” Kageyama said when he saw Hinata’s hesitation, as if he could read the ginger’s mind.  
He then rolled his eyes.  
“Remember how they look like, how they taste like, and you have another source of food for your group.”

Taking one of the berries, Hinata carefully bit into it. A flurry of sugary sweetness and neutral water mixed with the juicy flesh of the berry rolled over his tongue, and his taste buds absolutely welcomed the taste.  
And that was just one berry.

“ _I told you_ ,” Kageyama muttered under his breath.  
Hinata’s eyes widened, hopefully looking up at Kageyama who gave him a confirming nod.  
“But not too many. Leave some for me, and make sure there’s some left for tomorrow.”

Hinata snagged a small handful of the berries before Kageyama quickly pulled away, or else he would’ve tried eating the whole batch regardless of Kageyama’s warning.

Kageyama sat back down on the opposite side of the fire, every once in a while eating a berry.

“What’re we gonna do once-- once the herd has left--?” Hinata asked with his mouth full, a bit of juice trickling down his chin.  
His thigh would not be healed anytime soon, it’d take at least three weeks if they didn’t stitch the wound together. Kiyoko could, which would speed up the wound’s recovery, but then he’d have to get to the orphanage first.

Kageyama didn’t answer immediately, casually munching on the berries, thinking.  
“I guess you have two options,” he said, after swallowing.

“Option one is, you stay here with me until your leg is fully healed. Option two, after the herd has left this area, I’m going to help you get to the orphanage safely. Both have advantages, both have disadvantages.”

The way Kageyama replied to serious questions, was something Hinata really liked. Straight to the point and clear.

“Option two means that you will. . .” Hinata trailed, frowning; he didn’t expect Kageyama was willing to help Hinata get all the way to his hideout, through Walkers and uncertainty around every corner.

Hinata was a liability. They’d be slow, Hinata wouldn’t be able to fight, he’d have to depend on Kageyama completely.

Then once they did reach the orphanage, Kageyama would be spotted by the others, they’d be suspicious of him, and probably wouldn’t want to let him leave easily.  
Of course, Hinata was going to defend him.

Still.

“. . . I know,” Kageyama muttered, looking away.  
“Some of your group might recognize me, too. The older ones. . . they’ll know.”

Kageyama didn’t seem too happy about it.  
He was contemplating his choices and options, too, alongside Hinata.  
Hinata grew curious about Kageyama’s past, once again, but he pushed it aside.

“You can, maybe,” Hinata started, hesitantly, “. . . drop me off somewhere near the orphanage instead, and let me waddle the last bit by myself. There’s always someone guarding, so they’ll spot me from afar.”

“There’s no guarantee you’ll be able to walk by yourself.”  
“I’ll find a way. Use the walls, or maybe a makeshift stick to lean on, or something.”

Kageyama narrowed his eyes, unconvinced.  
“. . . we’ll see,” he mumbled finally, “You don’t have to decide, yet. Your condition will have changed in three days. Decide then.”

“So we’re confined to this place for some days, huh,” Hinata sighed, fiddling with the loose end of the bandages, “What are we going to do with all that time. . .”

“Well,” Kageyama wiped his hands off of his pants, stood up and stretched his arms.  
“I promised to _attempt_ to teach you how to read. You won’t learn it within three days, but since, you know. . .”

He glanced over at Hinata.  
“. . . you said you would hunt with me when you’re all good again, so we can-- we can always. . . we could take some of that time for reading lessons. . .”

Hinata squinted his eyes at Kageyama’s embarrassment.  
Out of all the things to feel shy about. . .

Laughing softly, Hinata nodded.  
“Sure. I promise to visit you if you’re _that_ lonely.”

“W-what, I’m not-- I’m not lonely!”  
“Yeah yeah, feel free to believe that.”

Something soft hit Hinata’s face.  
On impact, the berry burst and juice splattered across his cheek.  
With his fingers he scooped up the remnants of the berry before it could fall down to the ground, and licked it off.

Kageyama clicked his tongue.  
“ _Anyway_ , we also have to exercise your leg. Otherwise it’ll get stiff and all. . . ‘s not good for your muscles.”

“How are you this knowledgeable?”  
“About what?”  
“Like, everything? About wounds and how to treat them, Walkers, food, _muscle exercise--_ ”

“I learned it all from the people in the group I previously stayed with,” Kageyama answered, shrugging.  
“They taught me tricks and essentials. From different foods and how to see if it’s edible, to how to properly clean a wound.”

“Then I’m really thankful to that group, ‘cause without them I’d be dead,” Hinata hummed.

Kageyama shook his head.  
“That’s. . . ironic.”

Hinata tilted his head.  
“. . . You know something, don’t you, Kageyama?”

His eyes stood serious when he met Kageyama’s gaze.  
He’d known something was up from the very start, but Hinata didn’t want to pry--

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kageyama was split between telling Hinata or not, as evident from these kind of comments he dropped every now and then.  
Hinata wasn’t actually an idiot, he’d picked up the subtle signs.

He sighed, closing his eyes and sitting down a few feet away from Hinata.  
Neither said another word.

It was _funny_ .  
Kageyama was lucky and talented when it came to surviving, to instincts and to fighting.  
Not lucky when it came to other people.  
He always ruined it, somehow.

Or maybe he was more like a tipped scale.  
A way for Mother Nature to balance him out.

It wasn’t funny.

Hinata exhausted him.  
Being around him was _tiring_.

When Kageyama opened his eyes again, he wasn’t in the small room in Johzenji’s hideout anymore.  
Hinata was nowhere to be found, the small fire was gone, his weapons--

Soft, green grass brushed against his feet and legs and he noticed he was naked.  
His body was clean, devoid of scars and dirt.  
He stood on top of a hill.  
At the bottom of said hill, the field was ablaze.  
All around him, the grass was burning in a wildfire.  
There were no Walkers.

A red sky above, clouds drifting slowly.

Kageyama was dead.

He had to be.

Right?

Did he fall asleep, and. . . die?

Did Hinata. . . ?

Well, Kageyama would’ve deserved it.

He continued to hide many things from Hinata.  
And this is what he got out of it.

A breeze whispered in his ear, softly.  
Kageyama couldn’t make out the words, at first.

It grew louder, clearer.

_“--yama? Kageyama!”_

Kageyama opened his eyes.

He was met with worried, big eyes, small specks of light brown along shades of hazel.  
Confused, Kageyama blinked, flashes of the dream imprinted in his memory.  
He never had a dream like that before.

Cold sweat ran down his back.  
That was definitely not _just_ a dream.  
It meant something.

Hinata leaned on his side, hissing when his leg scraped along the floor.

The sun had started to set again.  
The fire was extinguished, a tiny swirl of smoke rising up.

Rubbing his temples, “. . . that was an experience.”

Hinata hushed him with a loud whisper.  
“Be silent. I woke you up for a reason.”

With no trace left of the awkward tension from before, Hinata stretched his arms out towards Kageyama like a helpless baby bird.  
“Come on, help me up.”

Obeying, his mind still occupied with the dream, he tightly gripped Hinata’s wrists and pulled him up to his feet.  
Shifting all his weight to his working leg, Hinata leaned against Kageyama as he motioned towards the window.

Frowning, he helped Hinata get to the window, letting him lean against the frame by himself.  
Kageyama peeked out as well.

He expected to see something disastrous.  
His brain was programmed to expect problems.  
Maybe the streets were filled with Thinkers, or perhaps another group was right outside the door.

What Kageyama didn’t expect to see was the most beautiful sunset he’d ever seen in all his time on this world.  
He instantly forgot all about the dream.  
Hues of pink, purple, red, orange, yellow--   
Only the top half of the sun was still visible above the forest, projecting the colors into the sky.

Mixed in with the colorful spectacle were twinkling, shining stars, despite it still being day.  
He didn’t know something this otherworldly existed.

On his right, Hinata leaned forward in awe, smiling brightly with wide eyes.  
The colors of heaven reflected in his pupils, his face painted a soft pink.

“Careful, idiot,” Kageyama mumbled, but it didn’t hold any real power.

They watched until the sun sunk down completely, leaving only the stars behind in the night.  
It started raining.  
He helped Hinata back to the blanket next to the fireplace without any complaints, added some wood to the pile, and the fire soon burnt again after a few tries.  
It became a routine really fast.

Kageyama felt Hinata’s eyes on him as he moved around, taking some pieces of meat and the container with berries out of their bags.  
Hinata shifted aside to one end of the blanket, as Kageyama sat down next to him.  
He placed the container in between them, and Hinata quickly picked out a few.

“These berries,” Kageyama said, “They grow in bushes in the forest, in places where the sun reaches all day long. Don’t eat the red ones, they’re unripe.”

Hinata listened as Kageyama told him about more specific places he found the berries.   
His voice was softer than Hinata was used to, talking as if they were old friends, and not strangers.  
Then again, they weren’t _complete_ strangers anymore.

An unspoken, unusual bond of trust had formed between them within the miniscule time frame of two days.

Kageyama handed Hinata a piece of deer meat after more than thoroughly cooking it, and through this Hinata discovered he liked it better when the meat was close to being burnt.

“Do you have any stories to tell?”  
“. . . about what?”  
“Anything,” Hinata gestured with the meat, “I’m sure you have a library of cool stories.”

“I think you’re overestimating how interesting my life is,” Kageyama answered, but started filtering through his memory in search of a worthy story nonetheless.  
“. . . Well, maybe I do have _one_.”

Hinata’s eyes lit up, and he shifted to a more comfortable stance, facing Kageyama.  
Kageyama pulled up his shirt halfway.  
He pointed at the thin scar across his stomach.  
“The story of how I got this one.”

“So,” Kageyama started, clearing his throat, “One day, I was scavenging by myself.”

“Of course you were alone,” Hinata snorted--  
“You want a story or not?!”

“I do I do!” he cried, instantly showing Kageyama a pair of puppy eyes.

“. . . it was cloudy and dark, a herd left the area just two days ago. There was a building that I was interested in in the middle of. . . my group’s territory. It was a centre of some sort, a lot of different shops were lined up within.”

Back then, the rift between Kageyama and the rest of Aobajohsai just started to form, in its beginning stages.  
This was the first time he went out alone, though rule was to always go in pairs, no matter what.  
And Kageyama had asked.  
He’d asked if someone wanted to come along, but they ignored him.  
Iwaizumi and Oikawa weren’t around at the time.

So he went by himself.

Kageyama wriggled through the doorway, careful not to cut himself on broken glass.  
The echoes of a few Walkers somewhere within the centre reached him, but they didn’t pose any danger, for now.

When he got inside, the harsh wind abruptly cut off, it made one hell of a difference.  
Shivering, he looked around.  
Most shops were completely intact, even their glass displays.  
Shopping carts, some fallen over, all around him, some lights had fallen down from the ceiling and had shattered on the floor.

Other than that, only the dust of years and years had gathered on top of every surface, the shopping centre seemed perfectly preserved.  
It felt eerie, yet surprisingly safe.

High Fashion.  
7-Eleven.  
Ramen.  
Other shop titles were written in a different language he couldn’t read.

A vertical rectangle block stood on the corner.   
Standing in front of it, curious, Kageyama saw it had buttons and little signs on a panel to the side, a glass window in between him and the supplies inside the block.

Kageyama hit the glass as hard as he could with his fist.  
It didn’t even crack a little bit.

Annoyed, he took his spear off his back, and thrust the sharp, pointed edge into the glass.  
This time, it went right through, miniscule pieces of glass shot away, but the glass wall itself still didn’t break.

Deciding it was no use, that he was wasting his time, Kageyama continued on.  
The hall opened up into a plaza, there were two stairs on either side.  
A proud, realistic plastic tree stood in the middle, benches surrounding it.  
A cardboard cutout of some character stood sadly next to one of said benches.

Inside the stores it was completely dark, though he could make out a Walker sauntering about within one of the clothing stores.

He went up the left stairs.

Once he reached the top, he turned back to look over the plaza, leaning against the steel railings.  
Just as empty as before-- is what Kageyama thought, at first.

He heard a crash from somewhere into the hallway he just left.  
Glass shattering, screeching of metal against metal.

Kageyama waited, not moving a muscle.  
Gazing down into the hallway down below, he saw shadows.

Tense, he readied his bow and arrow, aiming.  
Patiently, he waited, fixated on the growing shadows.

Out onto the plaza stumbled various Walkers.

How?  
How did they get in?  
Walkers weren’t strong.  
They usually couldn’t even break glass.  
Besides, the door had been a tight squeeze--

_The shattering had been the door breaking down._

Paranoia had started haunting Kageyama, ever since he pinpointed the exact moment Oikawa started to want him gone.  
Never before had he felt as lonely as he did these past few days.

_Someone broke it down on purpose._

The only exit was now blocked by Walkers.  
Someone definitely wanted him dead.

Stomping back down the stairs, Kageyama’s options were limited.  
Either kill all Walkers one by one, or kill only as many as needed and slip past the rest.  
Kageyama was afraid that these weren’t the only Walkers around, that others would be attracted to the noise, which meant that the longer he waited, the more Walkers would block his way.

Option two was the one he chose.

His first arrow landed into a nearby Walker’s head, sprinting past the next two.  
Bony, ice cold hands grabbed his arm, pulling him towards its owner’s gaping row of rotten teeth.  
Panicking, he slipped an arrow out of his quiver, and stabbed it between the Walker’s shoulder joint, pulling himself loose from its grip.

His breathing quickened as he staggered past the vending machine, past the 7-Eleven.  
Kageyama saw he guessed right.  
The doors were forced apart and kicked down, dents in the frames.  
A Walker hadn’t done that.

There was nobody there.  
Blowing against his hands in an attempt to warm them up, trying to shake off the feeling of being watched, he exited through the opening.  
He breathed in the fresh air, quickening his pace to get away from that trap of a shopping centre.  
He really should’ve checked beforehand if there was more than one exit.

But before Kageyama could even calm down properly, a silver flash flew at him from the right, out of the alleyway next to the shopping centre.  
He jumped backwards.

Pain.

Frozen in place, he looked down to see a streak of dark blood spreading slowly across his stomach.  
His breath hitched as he clutched his stomach with both arms, letting go of his bow.

Out of the alleyway stepped someone Kageyama knew very well, a small, sharp knife swirling between his fingers.

“Who was it?!” Hinata asked, fully invested into the story.

“Someone from the group I was with,” Kageyama replied.

“Your leader?”  
“No. . . someone who’d been holding a grudge against me since forever. I didn’t think he would, you know. . . try to get rid of me, though.”  
“That’s--”

Hinata looked down.  
“You do realise that’s horrible, right?”

Kageyama shrugged.  
“I guess. . . At that point in time, tension was already high within the group though. . .”

Hinata shook his head, looking back up, spotting vague confusion in Kageyama’s expression.  
“No, you don’t understand. That’s not how being in a group should feel like. A group is like a family. Comrades. Friends. You can trust each other, even if you don’t get along with everyone.”

“ _Clearly_ , that’s not how it always works,” Kageyama mumbled, irritated. He wondered if Aobajohsai would’ve been the way Hinata described if Kageyama hadn’t ever joined them.  
Oikawa had made it clear often enough that Kageyama wasn’t wanted, or needed.

“Continue the story!” Hinata demanded, picking up the hint that Kageyama did not want to talk about it.  
By now the moon stood high in the night sky, the only sounds were the crackling of their fire, the buzzed groaning from the undead wandering outside drowned out by the heavy rain.

“Right, so, as I was saying. . .”

He fell to the ground, glaring up at the man.  
Kageyama couldn’t place the emotion he saw in his eyes, as he looked down on Kageyama.  
Was it arrogance?  
Disgust?

Kindaichi’s knee connected with Kageyama’s face.  
Falling down, he spat out a single tooth, accompanied by blood.

No, Kageyama did know that emotion.  
He’d seen it in Oikawa’s eyes before.

Jealousy, viciously laced with hatred.

It wasn’t _fair_.

Reaching out, Kageyama grabbed just above the other’s ankle, pulling with all his might, a noise resembling a growl leaving his throat.  
He pulled hard enough to make Kindaichi temporarily lose balance, Kageyama got up and pushed his attacker and fellow group member to the ground.

 _Fear_ flashed across the face of the man beneath Kageyama, when his bloody hands closed around Kindaichi’s throat.  
“Why--” Kageyama hissed through his teeth, blood dripping out of his nose, tightening his grip around the other’s throat.  
“ _Why_ _do you hate me?!_ If you’re that jealous, pull yourself together and work to get better!”

The only noises from the man were gurgling, attempted tries at answering. His eyes were wide, and held no power to fight back against Kageyama’s iron grip.

Kageyama couldn’t stop.  
All of his frustration, powerlessness and loneliness poured out at once.

A powerful kick in his stomach sent Kageyama flying, scraping along the street as he curled into himself, a mix of saliva and blood pooling on the ground near his mouth.  
The impact had landed right up against the fresh knife laceration.

It was almost unbearable, rendering him paralyzed in pain.  
Trembling, he could only watch, fuming with anger, as Kunimi helped up a violently coughing Kindaichi.

“. . . should we just leave him?”  
“Yeah. Walkers will get him.”  
“. . . we’ll tell the others he got bitten.”  
_“. . . not that anyone is going to care.”_

Hinata, hanging on Kageyama’s lips, looked at him, sorrowful.  
“How. . . how did you live. . . ?”

“I used my shirt as a bandage, to try and stop the bleeding as best I could, hid in a nearby building until I convinced myself that I could face my group again,” Kageyama scoffed, fixated on the fire in front of him.  
“Two days later I got back to the hideout, ill and with an infection. You should’ve seen their faces. . .”

He laughed a fake laugh, pained.   
He’d never forget the look on Kindaichi’s face. Even Kunimi’s faltered at the sight of their failed attempt to leave Kageyama to die.

“. . . I stayed there for another two months, attempting to reconnect. Of course it was too late for that, though.”

Hinata bit his bottom lip.  
He suspected from the start Kageyama had some bad blood with whichever group he used to run with, but to this degree?

He _couldn’t_ imagine how Kageyama had felt.  
He _couldn’t_ imagine what words were the correct ones to say to Kageyama, right now.

Kageyama solved the last uncertainty for Hinata.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore.”  
Kageyama leaned back a bit.  
“I’m better off now. By myself.”

“I don’t think living alone in this world is a good idea,” Hinata mumbled, a little bit worried.  
Isolation would drive Kageyama to the edge, no matter how much he preferred to be alone.  
How much of himself was he really showing to Hinata?  
Who knows if Kageyama had already cracked, deep down?

“You’re here with me for now, right?”  
“For now, yes. . .”

Hinata nodded, hesitantly.

  
“Then there’s no need to worry.”

**xxx**

Shadow.  
Light.  
Shadow.  
Light.

Iwaizumi paced around the apple tree, turning to look towards the city every round he walked.  
It was late in the afternoon, and Iwaizumi felt like _dying_ .  
He wasn’t exaggerating.

That was a normal reaction at this point.  
This happened, every time.  
It always did, when he was separated from Oikawa for an extended amount of time.

Hanamaki had observed this _phenomenon_ for years now, between Oikawa and Iwaizumi, and once took Iwaizumi aside.  
“I think,” Hanamaki had said, “That in any case, whatever you two have with each other. . . Maybe it’s a disorder, or something like that. . .”

Iwaizumi frowned upon it.  
He knew Hanamaki meant well, yet. . .  
A disorder.   
The word sounded like it implied something was wrong with them.

Hanamaki may be their health expert --owning at least several books and studies about hospitals, illnesses and medicine-- but Iwaizumi had never heard of _disorders_ before.  
According to Hanamaki though, mental disorders were common even before the world went to hell.  
Besides about disorders, Hanamaki concluded that the current state of the world was a paradise for certain people, who were different from the status quo, who thrived.

Iwaizumi had shrugged him off.  
Even if Hanamaki was right, it didn’t matter.  
If it was a mental issue, it couldn’t be treated anyway.

Hanamaki never brought it up again.  
He didn’t tell Oikawa about it.

For as long as Iwaizumi can remember, he and Oikawa have been together.  
He remembered holding his hand when they were children, crying when Oikawa cried, letting him cling to Iwaizumi when he was scared.  
Running together, laughing together, learning together; under the watchful eyes of Aobajohsai’s previous leader, Nobuteru Irihata.

It used to bother Iwaizumi at some point how dependant he was on Oikawa’s presence.  
How his eyes followed Oikawa around, more than he deemed normal.

Was it really a disorder?  
Iwaizumi didn’t believe it.  
It was something else.

Not something bad.  
It never felt bad, except for when they were apart.

From the balcony of the mansion, three others were on the lookout too, for a sign of life at the horizon.  
Matsukawa, Kindaichi, and Kunimi.

It wasn’t night, yet.  
There was time.  
Oikawa could still come back.

Iwaizumi felt like, with each passing second, his resolve and trust in Oikawa cracked further and further.  
He wanted to believe Oikawa lived through it.

But wasn’t it a nearly inhumane task?  
Leading a herd, alone, walking miles.  
One would almost forget that, Walkers still resembled humans.  
A herd, was the ultimate symbol of death in this world.

Iwaizumi couldn’t wait to see that stupid, arrogant grin on Oikawa’s face again.  
Or those rare moments Oikawa showed him a real, genuine smile.  
Even his ugly crying face.

The second sun had started to set after his separation from Oikawa.  
The first stars high in the sky.

Was Iwaizumi exaggerating?  
Wasn’t he being too desperate to see Oikawa again?  
Was there something wrong with him, and Hanamaki was right?

_What if. . . ?_

Two hours later, only the orange, red glow of the sun sunk below the horizon illuminated the night sky, stars starting to appear more and more, no sign of the moon.  
A beautiful sight to behold, but Iwaizumi didn’t care.

It was starting to get cold, the breeze picking up.  
Nobody had left their place, though Hanamaki had joined the three on the balcony in the meantime.

Drops started falling down, the first one landing on top of Iwaizumi’s nose.  
Minutes later, and rain started pouring down from heaven, instantly soaking Iwaizumi to the bone.  
He made no attempts to go back inside the mansion, even if the others had left the balcony.

Silently, he walked down the steps.  
The rain obscured his vision, he couldn’t see further than two meters in the distance.

Approaching the old wooden fence, what Iwaizumi saw next, made him feel so many things he would never be able to describe them all.

Almost slipping on the wet grass, he hopped over the fence, an involuntary cry leaving his throat.

Iwaizumi hauled Oikawa up out of the mud, adjusting their leader’s lifeless arm around his own shoulders, seeing how his hands were cold and fingertips purple.  
Oikawa’s eyes were closed shut, the rain drops leaving paths through the dirt on his pale face, dirt mixed with blood originating from somewhere on the side of his head.

Iwaizumi felt Oikawa’s chest slowly rising and falling against him, relief coursing through his body.  
No time to feel anything right now, not even relief.

Stomping through the mud he reached the steps up the hill once again.  
Determined.  
Fearful.

“Someone!”  
Dragging Oikawa up the steps, his legs thumping against the paved stones, he called out to the mansion.  
The rain was even less helpful, reducing the reach of his voice.  
“Matsukawa!”

Nobody came.  
Nobody heard him.

Cursing, Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa’s face again.  
How long had he been lying there, in the mud?  
An hour?  
No, it had to be somewhere around the time it started raining.  
From the balcony, they could’ve seen Oikawa approach.

They had to check him for bite marks.  
They had to warm him up.  
They had to--

The door of the mansion was thrown open, Iwaizumi could make out two figures running down the steps.  
Matsukawa and Kindaichi.

“Fuck!” he vaguely heard Matsukawa, followed by a “Goddamn!” when the two reached Iwaizumi.  
Kindaichi slotted against Oikawa’s right side, lifting some of the weight, inadvertently pushing Iwaizumi to keep up with his faster pace up the stairs.

Matsukawa had gone back inside, ordering Kyoutani and Kunimi around.  
“Get Hanamaki!”  
"Clean clothes!”  
“Prepare food!”  
“Blankets!”

The warmth of the fire inside barely did anything to his body temperature when they reached the door, Iwaizumi nearly collapsing the moment it closed behind them.  
Matsukawa took over Oikawa from him.

Kunimi had rapidly collected blankets from all across the mansion, Hanamaki running down the stairs with his famed first aid kit.  
Matsukawa carefully laid their leader down on the old but soft couch closest to the hearth, then disappeared into a hallway, into the kitchen.

Kindaichi came down the stairs right after Hanamaki with a set of Oikawa’s clean clothes, which would definitely be deemed a terrible match if Oikawa saw it.  
He was going to complain about it.  
Kindaichi was not going to hear the end of it when Oikawa woke up.

_If he woke up._

Iwaizumi joined Hanamaki next to the couch, almost preventing him from assessing Oikawa’s condition as he fussed around, finally settling at the foot of the couch, watching over every movement Hanamaki made.

Kunimi and Kindaichi were ready with the blankets whenever needed.  
Kindaichi’s occasional nervous glances made Iwaizumi even more anxious, especially when he saw that even Kunimi, known for his lack of caring, showed a form of worry with his fidgety body language.

Iwaizumi unconsciously held his breath as he watched Hanamaki looking over Oikawa’s naked body, checking for bitemarks.

Nobody in Aobajohsai cared for privacy, though Iwaizumi still did not appreciate Oikawa barging in his room in the middle of the night.  
It’s a given when you live for years with a group.  
Everyone was going to see everything of everyone.  
Your flawed personality, your mistakes, your darkest moments, your body, your most vulnerable moments-- nobody could be bothered to mind anymore.

“He’s clear,” Hanamaki finally stated, “No bite marks.”

Kindaichi breathed out a sigh of relief, his body relaxing.  
Iwaizumi shared the sentiment, but couldn’t relax yet.

“Clothing!” Hanamaki then barked, shocking Kindaichi out of his relief again, who then promptly grabbed the set of clothing and handed it over.  
Once Oikawa was fully clothed and dried off, Iwaizumi took it upon himself to build a blanket nest around Oikawa.  
He wrapped him in multiple layers, careful not to smother him, then wanted to hold him, but Matsukawa pointed out Iwaizumi himself was still soaked.

Running up and down the stairs, in and out of his room, Iwaizumi almost flew through the mansion.  
Many thoughts rushed through his head.

Oikawa was safe.  
He was alive.  
He came back to Iwaizumi.

Not even five minutes later, he shoved Kindaichi out of the way, embracing the already warmed up blanket wrap Oikawa had turned into.  
Iwaizumi didn’t care about anything else right now.  
He unapologetically just didn’t give a fuck.

Fitted against his chest on the couch, he saw how the color slowly returned to Oikawa’s face.  
Matsukawa added some more wood to the hearth, then set down a plate filled with food and water on the small table next to said couch.

Everyone was silent.  
They all simply watched the life return to the empty husk of a human body Oikawa had been previously.

The rain continued to fall down on the mansion, but they were all dry and safe within.  
A flash of lightning in the distance.

An hour passed.

The first sign was the fluttering of his light brown eyelashes.  
Then a soft, hoarse hum, as he started to wake up.  
Following was a coughing fit.

The coughing didn’t stop, even when Oikawa opened his eyes fully. He couldn’t say a word, his whole body shocking-- tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Panic attack,” Hanamaki muttered, “Don’t worry.”  
He exchanged a nod with Iwaizumi.

Panic attacks were extremely common, everyone of Aobajohsai had gone through at least one, safe for Kyoutani.

“Tooru, it’s okay,” Iwaizumi mumbled softly, humming as he gently brushed Oikawa’s hair aside.  
“Breathe in deeply, and out again. Focus on my heartbeat.”

He continued to whisper sweet nothings, providing an anchor with words of calmness.  
Finally, after a few more minutes, the coughing gradually disappeared and made way for deep breathing, exhausted, his eyes closed again, his face hidden within the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck.

Iwaizumi felt the controlled, warm breaths against his neck, gratefulness washing over his body.  
He felt so immensely thankful for Oikawa’s safety.

Their always strong, prideful and confident leader was reduced to a tired, drained mess of a human in Iwaizumi’s arms.

Burying his face into Oikawa’s mostly dry hair, Iwaizumi closed his eyes.  
He was aware the others were all present, watching on or looking away.

“Tooru?”  
Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa’s eyes opened, answering to Iwaizumi’s call with half-lidded eyes.  
His lips parted slightly, naturally fading into a smile.  
“. . . Hajime,” Oikawa whispered, only for Iwaizumi to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	7. Past Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting spicy.
> 
> Also, a past connecting three people.

Taking a bite out of the apple, Suga stepped out of the door into the garden.  
He’d been sleeping soundly for two hours, until Kiyoko woke him up for the next rotation.  
Ground patrol.

By now the night had fully settled in, the only light source was from the moon.

He yawned, gazing around.  
The herd had calmed down slightly, though the rattling against the fence was just as worrisome as before.

Now that he and Daichi were on patrol and had solid ground under their feet, Daichi could join the fighting too.  
He specialized in close-combat, and though it was generally more dangerous and risky than sniping Walkers from afar, he worked wonders with his axe-spear combo.

“I needed that power nap.”

Speak of the devil.

“I could go for another ten hours,” Suga mumbled, as he felt Daichi’s warm hand on his shoulder.  
“. . . But killing Walkers is also fine.”

Daichi hummed in agreement.  
He approached the fence-- staying a safe distance away, of course-- and inspected the metal plating fastened there.  
“. . . This one may not hold up all night.”

“We should check all the reinforcements, just to be sure,” Suga said.

An uninterested, unenthusiastic, “Yoohoo,” came from behind them, and both men turned around.  
Looking up to the balcony, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi in turn looked down on them.

Suga smiled a bit, waving at them. Only Yamaguchi excitedly waved back with a grin.

“We’ll be sure to keep you safe!” the freckled boy said, “Don’t worry! Right Tsukki?”

“Yeah yeah,” the addressed mumbled, meeting Suga’s eyes.  
“Sugawara, according to Ukai a few Thinkers discovered the art of putting pressure on wooden planks in an attempt to break them down. He said, and I quote, ‘Just immediately shoot those fuckers down, and be sure to return often to check if they’re trying it again.’”.

“Right,” Suga nodded, stifling a laugh despite the worrying message. Tsukishima’s half hearted impression of Ukai’s voice left much to imagine.  
“Got it!”

“You heard that, Daichi? _They’re learning_ ,” Suga whispered ominously, receiving a sigh from the other in reply.

“I’m not surprised. For awhile I’ve felt like, especially Thinkers, do evolve in some way over time,” he grumbled.  
“. . . Alright, let’s make our first round around the orphanage.”

Stepping away, he joined Suga as they walked alongside the fence, far from the reaching arms of the Walkers.  
The orphanage was large, and while that had always been an advantage more so than anything, in this situation it really wasn’t.

They wouldn’t be able to properly hear Tsukishima or Yamaguchi if something happened at the entrance of the orphanage, but if they didn’t check all around, the fence could very well be broken down in the back.

It was a frightening sight.  
Hundreds of arms sticking out between gaps in the fence, all around the place.  
Without their trusty iron fence, the herd would’ve absolutely destroyed the orphanage, killing them all within the first hour.

Suga noticed though, the further back they went, the lesser the amount of Walkers, which was a gigantic relief to him.

Daichi was armed with his spear and a lightweight axe for emergencies, and chopping off Walker arms.  
Still, if the Walkers didn’t try and break through the fence, there was no need to get close and chop off their bony limbs.  
No unnecessary risk taking.

Suga had his bow, a quiver filled with arrows and a few throwing knives.  
Realistically, out of the two of them, Daichi would go down first due to his close combat weaponry.  
Besides, he’d protect Suga regardless.

Thinking about that, walking alongside each other in a comfortable silence, Suga remembered one of his most awful experiences on this world.  
The day he almost lost Daichi.

On that day, he and Daichi were on their way early in the morning to check out Date Tech’s old hideout.  
It had only been a week since they discovered the bloodbath Shiratorizawa had left behind in the territory of their friendly allies.  
Apparently the attack happened out of nowhere, and there was no way of requesting Karasuno’s assistance in time.  
It had been a quick, easy wipeout of a group that was kind and helpful, and that never stood a chance against the much more advanced and skilled Shiratorizawa.

Karasuno mourned them for the week that followed, but Ukai decided that they did have to scavenge the other territory for any resources left behind.  
And so, Daichi and Suga were ordered to go out and see, as they were most familiar with Date Tech’s territory.

“Wouldn’t Shiratorizawa have taken the useful stuff already?” Suga asked his companion, crossing a street.  
“They weren’t interested in taking over the territory, but. . .”

“Honestly, I don’t think Date Tech would have anything deemed useful to Shiratorizawa, but they might have for us,” Daichi replied.  
“Still. . . god, I can’t imagine. . . what happened. . .”

Nobody could.  
Shiratorizawa had never shown interest in Date Tech before one week ago, killing them all.  
A few people were missing when they arrived at the scene, but those must’ve already turned into Walkers by then.  
And nobody knew _why_ they decided to eradicate the group entirely.  
Date Tech would never provoke Shiratorizawa.

Date Tech’s hideout was a school with three floors.  
It wasn’t as large due to one half of the school completely missing, most likely because of an explosion of some sort.

Usually someone would be standing right at the school gate, but now it was empty.

The wind blew across the empty square in front of the building, howling, as the two entered through the gate.

“. . . _wow_ , I hate it,” Suga muttered, only getting creepy vibes from the whole area. He involuntarily shivered, hugging himself as they approached the large doors.

“Yeah, it’s a bit. . .” Daichi trailed, shaking his head, “Let’s just go in quickly, check, and leave again.”

Suga wholeheartedly agreed, he didn’t want to stay in this place any longer than necessary.

Inside the school, it was just as silent and empty.  
As familiar with Date Tech and their territory as they were, neither had ever been further into the school than the first hallway.

“I’ll go to the first floor, you search this one,” Daichi decided, yet still looked at Suga for confirmation.  
Suga gave a nod, and they parted ways; Daichi going up the stairs, and Suga entering the first room in the hallway.

Most of the rooms were either empty, or were filled with small desks and chairs. Suga had never been in any kind of school building before.  
What did they do in a ‘school’?  
What kind of work?  
And what kind of people?

He also noticed the rooms were numbered.  
1-1, 1-2, 1-3 and so on.

In one of the last rooms he did find a heap of clothing and a bucket with water, but that was it for Suga’s floor.  
He already assumed that they most likely wouldn’t have many important items or rooms on the ground floor, as this floor would be the first for potential enemies to find.

Stepping out of the classroom with an annoyed sigh, wishing he’d found something useful, he heard loud thumping right above him.  
Frowning, tilting his head, he listened.

“ _\--ga_! Suga!”

Daichi’s panicked voice echoed down the stairs.  
Wasting no time, Suga sprinted up the stairs, using his hands and the walls to turn quicker.  
Breathing, he looked from left to right.

This hallway looked identical to the one on the ground floor.   
Same doors, same rooms.

“Daichi?!” he called out as he looked left and right, peering inside every room to try and find him.

“ _Shit--_ Over here!”

Daichi’s voice was much closer now, and Suga pinpointed the right room immediately.  
The door was open, and the silver-haired man jumped inside with no hesitation.

In the corner of the room, he saw Daichi holding off a Walker with his spear horizontally across its neck, preventing it from biting him-- though it’s bloated hands had already grabbed onto Daichi’s arms.  
Why hadn’t he killed it?

That question was solved quickly when Suga saw the Walker was one of Date Tech’s members.

Daichi _couldn’t_ kill it.  
Not when only a week has passed after the brutal murdering, not when that wound was still fresh in their minds.  
Not when Futakuchi Kenji still looked so much like his former human self.

“I-I can’t--” Daichi glanced at Suga, his eyes glazed over, begging.  
“ _Please--_ ”

Swallowing, Suga approached the Walker from behind. It was far too occupied with trying to bite Daichi to notice him.  
He took out one of his knives.  
_He didn’t want to kill it._

Suga pushed it all aside for a split second.  
Morals, humanity, sorrow-- everything.  
Daichi would get bitten if he didn’t do anything.

Grabbing the side of the Walkers head, he thrust the knife into the other side, pushing it as far in as he could.  
Everything felt cold.  
A painful reminder that once you are bitten, you are doomed.

Suga let go, and the Walker slumped to the ground with the knife stuck in its head, dead once more.  
The only positive feeling he got out of this was that he had put one of their old friends to rest, for good.  
But that feeling was nearly nihil in comparison to everything he just experienced.

Killing Walkers that had recently turned, or people who were bitten and wanted to be put out of their misery before turning into the undead, was so, so extremely difficult.  
It still _felt_ like killing a human, if they just turned.  
Even if they tried to kill you-- they still _looked_ like humans.

It was easy killing the old, withered Walkers that had wandered the world for years.

Suga blankly stared at his hands.  
They were trembling violently, his fingers twitching without Suga wanting them too.

He closed his eyes, trying to ban the scenario he just experienced out of his head.

Suga felt Daichi leading him out of the room.  
He held Suga’s hand, but didn’t say a word, as they walked out of the hallway, down the stairs, through the next hallway, out of the building.  
Crossing the square, past the school gate.

Daichi felt guilty.  
He felt guilty for making Suga-- begging him-- to take the burden of killing a doomed friend off of him, instead of not being a coward and doing it himself.

It had been a moment of weakness.  
But the only thing he could do now, was silently promise Suga that he’d never make him do such a thing again, ever.

“ _Goddammit_ ,” Daichi breathed softly, “Fuck those resources, we should’ve never come here.”

When the two got back to the orphanage, empty-handed, nobody asked a question.  
They could tell just by their expressions.

Suddenly, Suga was taken back to the present again.  
By now they had reached the fence behind the orphanage again, and were on their way back to the front along the other side.

He squeezed Daichi’s hand softly, and smiled once he felt him squeeze back.

It wasn’t for a few rotations later, Suga and Daichi once again back on ground patrol, that something happened that shook them fully awake again.

Yamaguchi’s screaming for help forced Suga and Daichi to sprint the last half back to the front of the orphanage.  
Rounding the corner, their hearts beating right out of their chests, with a quick nod, they pushed their bodies against the metal plating near the gate.  
This wasn’t the first time.

It had come loose again, bending backwards due to the amount of Walkers having gathered in that one spot, all pushing against the plating to get in.  
With their shoulders and backs and hands, Daichi and Suga kept the plating in place, using all their power to push it back against the fence as best as they could.

All around them, bloody, fleshy arms reached through, inches away from grabbing them.  
It was that a Walkers face didn’t fit through the gaps, or else both of them would’ve been bitten by now.  
They still had to be careful, naturally.

“Hold on, Suga!” Daichi yelled, his voice barely reaching over the groaning and hissing near their ears.

Yamaguchi’s arrows flew right past them, more often than not hitting a Walker, while Tsukishima instructed him the same way Daichi had done for Suga, calmly pointing out where to aim.

Seemingly neverending thumping against the metal plating, cold fingers clawing at their arms and legs, moaning and cries-- the two could barely hold up the barricade.  
Sweat trickled down their faces, hands turning red from forcing themselves against the cold steel.

This went on for ten more minutes.  
Yamaguchi gradually turned the odds in their favor when he evened out the amount of Walkers, and from then on out worked to remove them even further until only a few were left.

These short but powerful attacks were exhausting to fight, but Suga felt like they were getting better at it.  
They were currently on the sixth rotation, just back from their second two-hour sleep.

The Thinkers weren’t really advancing much either, after a few had managed to get in a few hours back, who were promptly killed by Ukai and Tanaka.  
But Suga didn’t want to breathe in too much relief or hope, yet.

He’d noticed that this herd did pull some unexpected moves sometimes, so nobody could let their guard down.

“The reinforcements are slowly breaking down,” Daichi mumbled, wiping sweat and dirt off his forehead with the back of his hands.  
“We might be in real trouble soon.”

Suga agreed.  
The wooden planks were the first to break, though the denting in the metal reinforcements didn’t do it any good either.

But Suga did offer some words of hope.  
“I am pretty sure the herd has naturally thinned out a bit, though. They’re starting to lose interest.”

Another advantage Karasuno had over the Walkers now was that it was day again.  
It had been eleven hours since the herd exited the alleyway maze.  
The temperature was becoming more pleasant and they could view the herd much better despite the dark rain clouds looming over the city

Eleven hours they had fought the herd nonstop.

It was going to be a tight squeeze between a vital reinforcement breaking and being able to kill the Walkers in time before that happened.

They were starting to run low on arrows, and if they were out of those, their last defense was close combat and two guns with a few bullets.

“How’s it looking around the alleyways? Are Walkers still flooding onto the plaza?” Daichi asked the two on the balcony, looking up.

Yamaguchi narrowed his sleep-deprived eyes, leaning forward a bit, observing the alleys.  
“. . . not really. A few are appearing every now and then, but it seems like most of the herd has moved on already.”

Now that was worth a sigh of relief.

“It’s-- it’s really almost over,” Daichi mumbled softly, smiling a bit at Suga.  
“It still might take a few hours for the herd to completely leave the area, but it looks like Hinata, Noya and Asahi will be able to come back today or tomorrow.”

“Oh my god,” Suga nodded, “ _Yes._ I can’t wait to see them again.”

His whole body felt sore and his muscles hurt.  
He could probably sleep for two days straight after all this was over.

“Rotation’s over. I don’t want to wake up again anytime soon, so make sure you clear the herd within the next two hours,” Tsukishima told them, before he and Yamaguchi disappeared from the balcony.

“The next two hours, huh,” Daichi chuckled faintly, “I sure hope we can do that.”

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


As to be expected, the next day Oikawa came down with a cold.  
Hanamaki was surprised though, that he hadn’t come down with something much worse.

Standing up from his chair next to Oikawa’s bed, he nodded reassuringly at Iwaizumi.  
“He’s fine, nothing too bad. It’ll be over again in a day or two.”

Oikawa rolled around in his bed, facing Iwaizumi, who replaced Hanamaki on the chair.  
Last night, he’d fallen asleep with Oikawa wrapped up in his arms and blankets, on the couch. The others hadn’t woken them, because apparently ‘You weren’t letting go of Oikawa anytime soon, Iwaizumi.’.

“Idiots don’t catch colds, right? That’s what Makki always says. So you can’t call me one anymore.”

Iwaizumi scoffed, “I’ll call you an idiot as often as you need to keep your ego from inflating, _Shittykawa._ A cold won’t stop me.”

Hanamaki had told Iwaizumi to keep Oikawa bedridden whatever it cost for at least one day. It was late in the morning, but Oikawa had already tried to sneak out multiple times, only to be caught every time.  
So now Iwaizumi was just going to watch over him inside the bedroom instead of guarding outside.

He was relieved though, that Oikawa got back on his feet so quickly. He wouldn’t say it to his face, but Oikawa was a much needed force in Aobajohsai that they really couldn’t miss.

“Iwa-chan! I’m just a pure, poor, recovering soul!”  
“Pure? _You_?”

Oikawa hadn’t said a word about his herd-leading two days, yet.   
But now was the perfect time to pry, and Iwaizumi sure as hell was going to take that chance.

Oikawa had his blanket pulled up all the way over his nose, peeking at Iwaizumi.  
Mischief in his eyes, it was obvious that underneath that blanket, he was smiling.

It hit Iwaizumi then, that he might very well be underestimating everything Oikawa had gone through to not only come back to the mansion, but also how he managed to not get bitten or wounded.

Oikawa wasn’t necessarily someone who lied, but he was definitely someone who hid everything away.

Iwaizumi reached out with his hand, his fingers fondly moving a few strands of hair out of Oikawa’s face.  
“. . . Tooru, what happened?” he asked.

It only took those three words.  
He watched as Oikawa’s expression faltered, crumbled, and tried, _tried_ to keep it all in.

Iwaizumi’s eyes never left Oikawa’s, not when they glazed over, and not when a tear rolled down his face.

Now Iwaizumi was absolutely certain that he underestimated Oikawa’s lonesome journey, and that he might never truly know everything about it.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he heard Oikawa curse, as they finally broke eye contact and he wiped the tear away with the blanket.  
The blanket shifted down to underneath his chin.

“. . . Hajime, lock the door, please.”

Iwaizumi did what he was told, settling on the edge of Oikawa’s bed once he got back.

“You’re the only one who’s going to hear everything,” Oikawa muttered, closing his eyes, “The others are going to hear . . . a less informed version.”

Only for Iwaizumi Oikawa would peel his mask away.

He told Iwaizumi about his doubts and his anxieties.  
The endless road, the fear.  
About Yuda Kaneo and Kageyama Tobio.  
About how much he had missed Iwaizumi, and how much he had wanted to give up.

All the while Iwaizumi simply listened, not interrupting once, his hand resting on top of Oikawa’s.

“ _Hajime_ ,” Oikawa sighed at the end of his tale, “You may call me an idiot as many times as you want, as long as I don’t ever have to leave you again.”

It felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders after telling everything to Iwaizumi.  
He didn’t need to pretend like he was okay.  
It had an instant effect on him, being able to share these past two days with someone, and he smiled to himself, relieved.

He saw almost an hour had passed since he started talking.

“. . . why are we like this?”

The question leaving Iwaizumi’s mouth, the first thing he said after the long story, surprised Oikawa.  
“Now what do you mean by that, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi had covered his eyes with the back of his hand.  
Oikawa sat up straight into his bed, frowning.

“This. _Everything_ ,” Iwaizumi mumbled, “You were only gone for two days.”

“Wha-- Iwa-chan! Are you implying you’d rather have me gone for even longer?!”  
Crossing his arms, offended, Oikawa squinted his eyes at him.

“No, _no--_ that’s not _it_.”  
“Then what are you talking about?!”  
“Shit, Tooru, calm down--”

Frustrated, Oikawa threw his hands in the air.  
“You’re the real idiot here, Hajime!”

Iwaizumi promptly removed his hand, and Oikawa was rendered speechless when he saw the look in his familiar green eyes.  
A look that Oikawa could only describe with one word.

Wildfire.

“You don’t know what those two days did to me,” Iwaizumi said, as he finally looked at Oikawa.  
“I could only think about _you_. If _you_ lived or not. How much I wanted to be with _you_. How much I missed _you_. How much I fucking-- how much--”

Arms embraced Iwaizumi, holding him close in a warm hug.  
Body warmth to body warmth, so much different than how Iwaizumi held Oikawa yesterday night.

“What is _this_ , Tooru? What is it that-- what is this between _you_ , and _me_?”

Burying his face into Iwaizumi’s neck, Oikawa could not contain his happiness.  
A bubbly feeling welled up in his stomach.  
Poor, overthinking Iwa-chan.

Smiling, his grip around the other male tightened when he felt Iwaizumi wrapping his own arms around Oikawa, a bit more hesitantly.  
Confused.

“Poor Hajime,” he mused, “You just used so many words when you could’ve said it in only three.”

Iwaizumi frowned in frustration, Oikawa snorted in joy.

“Oh Iwa-chan, you could’ve just said ‘I love you’, but you had to take the long route, didn’t you?”

_I love you._

Iwaizumi nearly couldn’t believe it.  
All puzzle pieces fell into place.

“Oh my god, I love you,” Iwaizumi repeated in utter disbelief.  
“But why did I fall in love with someone like you. . . ?!”

Snagging his pillow from behind, Oikawa pushed it into Iwaizumi’s face.  
“You should be _happy_ that you fell in love with someone like me!”

Taking the pillow and throwing it away onto the ground, Iwaizumi raised both his eyebrows at that statement.  
“‘Happy’? You think I want to love a crybaby like you?”  
“Yes!”

Staring at Oikawa’s pouting expression, Iwaizumi shrugged.

“I guess I fucking have to, then. _Idiot_.”  
“Hey, now--”  
“No, me loving you does not excuse you from being called out on your idiocy.”

A violent rattling of the doorknob shook both males.  
The two had completely forgotten they locked the door, but now they were glad they did.

“Everything okay in there? Did something happen?”

Kindaichi.

Oikawa rolled his eyes, let go of Iwaizumi and fell back on the bed.  
“. . . What a cockblock. Hajime, didn’t Mattsun say Kindaichi was the one to choose this horrible outfit for me yesterday?”  
“I mean, he didn’t necessarily _choose_ it, he just randomly grabbed clothing since we all thought you were dying and all.”

Iwaizumi wanted to talk more with Oikawa about the question of ‘What now?’

Though he never considered the possibility of falling in love before, as surviving was the main priority in everyone’s lives, he knew one thing for sure.

This world wasn’t ideal for love.

If something happened to Oikawa, what would he do?  
Then again-- that hadn’t changed from before.

If Oikawa had died while leading the herd, Iwaizumi wouldn’t know what he’d done either.  
Cry, a lot.  
That’s for sure.  
Perhaps he couldn’t even continue living.

It was already too late to try and somehow distance himself from Oikawa, in an attempt to save himself from feeling those things if something bad were happen to either of them.

 _If_.

He already loved Oikawa before realizing it today.  
It didn’t matter.  
Whether or not they had uttered the words ‘I love you’ today or over a year or even ten years, didn’t matter.

Bad things could happen to anyone.  
Only now Iwaizumi had possibly an even stronger reason to always try everything in his power to come back to Oikawa safely, every day again and again.

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


Orange, black, blonde.  
Hazel, blue, light brown.

“Don’t go too far!”  
The child sighed, as the other two nodded their heads in unison.

“We won’t!”

Once out of ear sight of their taller, raven-haired best friend, the smaller ginger giggled.  
“Tobio’s so stuck-up, right?”

“But he’s right, we can’t go too far or else we’ll get lost again,” the blonde girl replied, a bit more careful.  
“Remember what happened last time. . . ?”

Oh, they all remembered.  
Shouyou and Hitoka had wandered off, away from Tobio.  
Shouyou had seen a ‘big living rope’ between the heap of rocks they just crossed, next to the river, and he wanted to show her-- since Hitoka didn’t believe him.

He climbed onto the smaller rocks, back onto the larger boulders, and she followed him.  
Soon enough, he stopped in front of a larger crevice between two boulders.

Hitoka frowned, trying to peer into the darkness.

“I saw it in here,” Shouyou confirmed, his tiny hands turned to fists, in anticipation.  
“It was green and it moved funny. Swinging from left to right on the ground.”

Hitoka bit her lip. She felt a bit afraid now that her friend explained even more.  
“M-maybe we should go back. . .”

But then, two beady eyes blinked open, watching the two children from within its tiny cave.  
With a soft hissing, the scaly, green snake slithered out to look at the loud intruders-- curious, but not afraid to attack.

Hitoka yelped the moment she saw the thing, hiding behind Shouyou. She peeked over his shoulder as the snake inched closer.  
Shouyou was completely frozen in place.

Fear.

He didn’t even know what this animal was, or what it could do, but he felt fear.

Inches away from Shouyou’s feet, it curled backwards into itself, opening it’s beak to reveal two long, sharp fangs, a row of smaller teeth behind each.  
Its tongue slithered in and out, tasting the air.

It deemed the intruders a danger to her nest.

Neither children could look away as the snake launched its body into the air.

Shouyou closed his eyes, expecting pain to hit soon.  
He felt tears burning.  
He now knew it was stupid, and that he had to listen to Tobio-- but he hadn’t, because he wanted to see the world.  
He wanted to see what new things the world had to offer him.

Death was one of them.

But nothing happened.

Carefully, he opened on eye.

There was the snake, pinned to the ground with a sharp stick through its head, bleeding.  
It’s body was still moving, shaking, curling.  
But it was dead.

Hovering over it stood Tobio, scowling.

“Shouyou! How many times do I have to tell you!” he yelled, stepping over the snake towards Hitoka and Shouyou.  
Hitoka had already been crying, as evident from the wet spot on his shoulder.

Shouyou looked at Tobio as he stopped in front of him, crossing his arms.  
His bottom lip trembled, tears in the corners of his eyes.

“T-Tobio. . .” he whimpered, reaching his arms out to the oldest child out of the three of them.  
Shouyou wasn’t thinking about how dangerous it had been, or that maybe next time, he should think twice about following some unknown animal--  
He just wanted to comforted.

Shouyou started crying, when Tobio ignored him in favor of continuing to glare at him.

Tobio sighed.  
It was difficult enough keeping all three of them alive, he didn’t need Shouyou making their lives even more dangerous.

He stepped towards Shouyou and Hitoka, and wrapped his arms around the two of them, pulling him into a hug.  
They graciously accepted, their tears now staining Tobio’s oversized shirt instead, their small hands clutching the fabric on his back.

_Idiots._

But he didn’t say it out loud.

After their crying had calmed down a bit, he took either hands in his, leading them back over the rocks to the camp Tobio just finished setting up.

This all happened yesterday.  
Yet Shouyou already acted like he forgot the whole snake ordeal.  
But Hitoka hadn’t.  
And she had to put her foot down or else they’d seriously get hurt.

She grabbed Shouyou’s hand, trying her best Tobio glare.  
“Shou! What if there’s another green rope in the rocks?!”

Hitoka saw him tense up.  
So he hadn’t forgotten after all.

“If you get hurt, Tobio’s going to cry too!” she added.

“R-really?” Shouyou whispered, having a hard time imagining his older friend crying.  
“Would he really be sad. . . ?”

He always got the feeling Tobio didn’t care about him.

HItoka nodded fervently.  
“Of course! Come on, let’s go back!”

This time Hitoka was the one to lead Shouyou safely back.  
They both saw that tiny, relieved smile for a split second on Tobio’s face now that they looked for it, when he noticed them.

A pan with water from the river was bubbling on top of said fire, boiling.  
Around the fire were two blankets, and that was it for their camp.

It was really just the three of them in this world, now.

Night fell quickly, but he fire kept them warm, and it made them feel safe.

“Past this forest, should be the big city Michimiya said we should go to,” Tobio said, looking at the treeline meters away.  
“Tokyo.”

“Really?”  
His mouth stuffed with mashed apple, Shouyou’s eyes gleamed, reflecting the flames.  
“Finally!”

“Finally,” Hitoka nodded in agreement, “What was the name of that person again, the one we should find?”

Tobio squinted his eyes at the girl on his left.  
“You don’t remember?! . . . Shouyou, what were the names of the people we should look for?”

Oh no.  
Shouyou didn’t remember either.

“Ehm. . . it was. . . l-let me think. . .”

“Oh my god,” Tobio shook his head, severely disappointed.  
“Listen up. It’s _Ukai Keishin_. And if we couldn’t find him, _Sawamura Daichi_. Repeat it.”

“Ukai Keishin. Sawamura Daichi,” Hitoka and Shouyou echoed in unison.

Satisfied, Tobio leaned back against the still warm boulder behind him.  
It had been a pretty long journey, but it seemed like they were almost there.

It was his duty.  
He had promised Michimiya he’d safely bring Hitoka and Shouyou to her friends in the other city.  
He promised to protect them-- but Shouyou wasn’t making it any easier.  
Whether that was by angering snakes or falling into rivers and nearly drowning.

But now they were almost there.  
Until then, Tobio had to watch over them all.  
It was exhausting, but rewarding, too.

Everytime Tobio closed his eyes, he remembered Michimiya’s face.  
Her panicked eyes, as she cupped his face between her cut up hands.

At that time, Tobio had no idea what was going on in the camp.  
Everyone was yelling, part of the camp was on fire, and inhuman noises sounded all around them.

“Tobio,” she’d whispered, her brown eyes boring into his blue ones.  
“Go northwest. Take Hinata and Yachi with you.”  
She wrung her trusty old compass into his trembling hand.

“You’ll find a city there, Tokyo. Look for Ukai Keishin. Okay? And if you can’t find him, Sawamura Daichi. They’ll help you,” she said, a tone of urgency in her voice as she looked around, quickly.  
“Take the essentials you need and leave this camp.”

Michimiya gently pressed a kiss on his forehead.  
“The purple berries grow everywhere, eat those. Use a pan to boil water. Grab a few blankets.”

She looked into his eyes again, fondly.  
“Can you do that? Will you protect Shouyou and Hitoka for me?’

Tobio had nodded.  
Now that she’d given him a goal, he knew what to do.

Michimiya smiled, “Good boy. Now, go.”

Tobio had turned around, suppressing the urge to cry-- he knew without her telling him that he’d never see any of them again.  
He’d never be able to come back to the camp.

Tobio remembered finding Shouyou trembling in the corner of Tobio’s tent, when he went to grab the things they’d need.  
He remembered him starting to cry when he saw Tobio, brabbling about how he was scared and that he couldn’t find Tobio and Hitoka and Michimiya and--

“We’re leaving,” Tobio had said firmly, grabbing Shouyou’s hand and pulling him along. Without protesting, he followed him, too scared and confused.  
“We just need to find Hitoka.”

“W-what about Yui? Or Mao?”

“They’re staying behind.”  
Tobio’s tone of voice told Shouyou to ask about it later, not now.

They found Hitoka standing in the middle of the camp, frozen in shock as she watched everything happen.  
Shouyou snapped her out of it and took her hand, forcefully pulling her along.

Escaping through the second, more hidden exit in the far back of their camp, they ran into the forest.  
The screaming died down, replaced by the twittering of birds in the dusk.

Panting, the three children finally stopped running when they reached a small clearing.  
They practiced fighting before here, with members of their group.

Both Shouyou and Hitoka-- and arguably Tobio too-- were too confused and shocked to think about what actually happened.

Now they were three children in the middle of the woods, with nobody to take care of them.  
They couldn’t go back, only forward.

Tobio glanced at the smudged compass in his hand.  
They were going in the right direction, at least.

Northwest.  
Ukai Keishin.  
Sawamura Daichi.  
Tokyo.

He was determined to get his friends and himself to safety, whatever it took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine confusing being in love with having a disorder.  
> *squints eyes at Hanamaki*
> 
> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	8. Frozen Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love reading your comments so much!  
> I appreciate everyone who leaves a comment, kudos or bookmarks this story <3
> 
> Thank you for your support!

Even more so than Walkers, the most unexpected, deadly element in this world is its weather.  
Sunny one day, packs of snow the next.  
Rain, then drought.

But as long as you had a strong shelter and a stock of food, a group would usually be fine throughout those extreme days.  
It was natural to expect a completely different climate the next day.  
Signs of a weather change were pretty obvious, too.

Last night, the two had fallen asleep with the heavy rain in the background, after Kageyama had told his story.  
Together, the blanket wrapped around their shoulders, comfortably plastered against each other.

Kageyama was dreaming, again.  
Though it all felt more like a reoccuring nightmare to him.

Back on top of the hill, naked.  
The field was still ablaze, the flames licking the blood red sky.  
The only change was that now, he could move.

Slowly he stepped forward into the grass.  
Another step, and another one.  
He slowly made his way down the hill, right up against the fire.  
The heat scourged his skin, but it didn’t hurt, yet.  
For some reason, he stuck his arm right into the fire, believing it wouldn’t hurt.

And that was a mistake.  
Kageyama discovered that, while he was aware this was a dream, even imagined fire burnt.

The pain was so heavy that for a moment, he couldn’t perceive anything around him, the world doused in white--

He opened his eyes.

Feeling a soft tugging on his hand, he saw Hinata’s relieved expression.  
Then he noticed.

It was so cold.  
So incredibly cold.

Slowly, he tried to move his numb, fiery red fingers.  
They barely moved.

The fire was extinguished, and it had been for a long time.

What time was it?

The clouds formed by his breaths rose as he looked up, not having moved an inch since opening his eyes.  
His lips were cracked and just as numb as his fingers, trembling with every breath.

Kageyama watched as a snowflake fluttered through the window inside, following it until it melted into the floor in front of him.

This hideout wasn’t prepared for this weather.  
He should have covered up the window with the blanket beforehand, that would’ve prevented this from happening.

Kageyama had lived on his own for a few weeks now.  
The weather had been tame all this time, and he just. . . didn’t think about it.  
Back in the orphanage with Aobajohsai, they never had to worry about needing to protect themselves against unsteady weather.  
The building was strong and had no gaps or openings anywhere.

“ _F-fuck_ ,” Kageyama whispered, slowly bending forward and leaning on his hands, pushing himself up. His throat felt sore.  
Hinata watched silently, his whole body trembling, shivering as he grabbed the blanket from the floor.

Neither said a word.  
Kageyama gripped the window frame, turned, and checked outside.

The snow wasn’t the main problem.  
A very thin layer covered the ground, the buildings and the Walkers, and only a few stray snowflakes fluttered down from heaven, carried by the wind.

Said wind, however, felt like a cold knife cutting into his flesh.

His trembling hands reached out to take the blanket Hinata held up to him, understanding Kageyama’s idea without speaking.  
Kageyama held it up to the top of the window frame, wrapping it around the thin steel bar above, long void of curtains.

Hitched, short breaths, his whole body shivering, it took a few tries to get the blanket to stay in place.  
The long blanket perfectly covered the window, and Kageyama really wanted to hit himself for not thinking about this earlier.

The wind was cut off.  
Even though it didn’t warm them up in any way, it made so much difference now that the cold couldn’t freely enter the room anymore.

His fingers started to hurt the more he moved them, but he took that as a good sign as his muscles started to respond better to his wishes.

It took, again, a few tries, but soon enough the wood remnants in the middle of the room lit on fire.  
He grabbed a lot of pieces of wood out of the room next door, adding a whole bunch to the fire in an attempt to make it just as huge as it had been on his first night with Hinata.

Sticking his hands nearly into the flames, a soft moan of relief left his throat, the heat seeping into his skin and bones.  
Hinata crawled up right against him, mimicking his movements.  
And Kageyama let him.

He let Hinata snuggle up to his side, sharing what little amount of body warmth they had left.

_This is not fair to Hinata._

Kageyama knows.  
It’s the one thought that so often crossed his mind these past three days.

He was torn between telling Hinata the truth and have it be over with, or keep on hiding it.  
He knew which one was the best choice.  
_He knew._

But Kageyama was just afraid.

Hinata would hate him.  
He would hate him, just when Kageyama found him again, after all these years.

He’d been weighing the pros and cons of both options, rethinking, reweighing again.

It wasn’t a battle between his mind and his heart.  
If it was, he’d choose whatever his heart decided, with no hesitation.

This was a battle of two sides within his heart.

“Hinata? If you feel ready for it tomorrow, then. . . I think you’ll be able to return to your group.”

Glancing down sideways, he saw Hinata smiling brightly, his cheeks flushed.  
“Are you for real?!”

Kageyama gave a curt nod.  
“The Walkers will be sluggish due to the cold, and it seems like most of the herd has moved out of the area.”

Hinata’s bottom lip trembled, twitching slightly in joy.  
But then it faltered.

“What if. . . the orphanage is overrun? Kageyama, what if they’re all--”

“Shut up with your ‘what-if’s’,” Kageyama snarled, “That’s the most annoying thing you can say right now, dumbass.”

Taken aback, Hinata swallowed, silent.

“Look,” Kageyama sighed softly, “Believe in them that they survived. Have faith in them. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Which he also said to reassure himself.  
Deaths fallen among Karasuno within these past few days would be partially his fault-- if not fully.

But he had made a decision.

He saw Hinata’s panicked expression turn back to a neutral, reassured one.  
“I guess you’re right. . . They _must_ still be alive!”

Hinata nestled back against Kageyama’s shoulder, comfortably smiling to himself.

Technically, Kageyama had been more of a sidekick when he and Oikawa lead the herd.  
He just wanted to make sure Oikawa lived, for Iwaizumi’s sake.  
He didn’t care about Karasuno at that time.  
Why would he?

Yet fully placing the blame on Oikawa wasn’t it either.

Kageyama had thought hard and long about it, these past few days.

“. . . Hinata, I know that you know I’ve been hiding some stuff from you.”

He felt the male tense.  
Immediately, a wave of panic rushed over Kageyama, but he couldn’t scramble back now.

Kageyama stared into the fire, ignoring the big eyes staring at him.  
“Remember I asked if you’d come hunt with me, when your injury was healed?”

Hinata nodded, unsure of where Kageyama was going to with this.

“Yeah, forget about it. After tomorrow, when you’re safely back with your group, don’t ever come looking for me. If you do, I’ll move to somewhere else.”

Hinata’s mouth opened, and closed again, soundless.  
Those harsh words cut him deep.  
Because he could tell.  
Hinata could tell Kageyama meant it.  
He wasn’t just being mean for the sake of being mean.

“Well, after I tell you the truth, you’re going to hate me anyway,” Kageyama scoffed, “So regardless of that. . . Tomorrow, I’ll bring you as close to that orphanage as possible. On the way, I’ll tell you everything.”

Hinata didn’t understand why it hurt so much.

“Then, we’ll never see each other again.”

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


“Daichi, I’m tired,” Suga muttered, leaning on the railing of the balcony with both his elbows, his head resting on top of his hands, looking out into the garden.  
“When’s this going to be over. . .”

“Soon, soon,” Daichi hummed, gently ruffling his companion’s hair.  
“My guess is that this will be our last rotation. After these two hours, we can go to sleep again, and hopefully not wake up anytime soon.”

Suga was slowly spiraling down into a really sour mood.  
He had a headache, his body felt sluggish and he was tired.

Daichi had dark rims underneath his eyes as well, maybe even worse ones than Suga’s own.

“Ukai just--” Daichi yawned, “He just wants to make sure we can really sleep peacefully and not worry about the fence breaking down.”

“I know, I know,” Suga muttered, sighing. He closed his eyes for a second, nearly succumbing to sleep right then and there, on the balcony.  
His eyes snapped open quickly.

Tanaka had sat down into the grass near the stone path, lazily keeping an eye on the Walkers. Ukai stood right behind him, ready to kick the young man to action when needed.  
But even their leader showed signs of exhaustion.

If talking percentages, Suga guessed perhaps only the last ten percent of the original herd was still left wandering the plaza or attacking the fence.

Thirteen hours it had taken them.

Gazing up to the heaven, he saw it was going to rain somewhere later today. Hopefully this nightmare would be over by then.  
It had to be.

As the time slowly ticked away, all four men outside started to doze off.  
Nobody wanted to move if they didn’t really have to.

Suga’s half-lidded eyes followed a small group of Walkers heading straight for the gate. He watched them hit the metal plate, snarling loudly.  
He watched as the reinforcement broke and fell down against the stone path with a screeching.

Nobody did anything.  
That’s how out of it they were.

But then, cogwheels started turning in Suga’s mind.  
His eyes flew open.

“Tanaka, Ukai! The gate!” he yelled, shocking Daichi out of his own dazed state.

Tanaka shot up from the ground, watching in horror as within seconds, every Walker on the plaza gathered near the gate and started heaping against each other, their weight against the fence.

Ukai grabbed his axe and stormed towards the gate, followed closely by Tanaka.  
He cleaved off the head of a Walker cleanly, then another one’s arm.

“Suga!” he screamed back without looking, but he didn’t need to.  
An arrow pierced through a Walker nearly biting into Tanaka’s shoulder, the latter quickly jumped away, terrified.

“The fence is not going to hold up,” Daichi breathed, his eyes wide as he desperately searched for a solution-- a solution to get the Walkers away, or to get Ukai and Tanaka secured in a safe place, or--

Creaking, the iron bars of the fence were bending in towards the orphanage, the sheer volume of that ten percent of the herd weighing upon it.

“It’s not going to hold, get away from there!” Daichi yelled this time, at the two in the garden. Suga didn’t dare look, he continued to focus on killing Walkers that were on the front of the attack.

If they broke through-- they may be just as good as dead, still.  
They’d have to retreat and abandon the ground floor.  
The noises would attract other Walkers back to the orphanage.

They didn’t nearly have enough resources, because once the Walkers broke through, their interest in the living within the building would peak again.  
Those Walkers might not leave for a few days.

“Shit, really?! You fuckers should be done by now!” Ukai hissed, wiping Walker remnants off his face.  
“Tanaka, get back!”

Ukai himself stepped away as well, and even in those few seconds, the gate creaked open further and further, encouraged by the Walkers groaning.  
“We can’t give up the fence now! _Not now_!”

All the work they had done in thirteen hours would be rendered useless if the herd broke through this late. Of course, they had all considered that a real possibility from the very start, but by now they had started to feel a safe sense of security.

Ukai grabbed the large metal plate from the ground, and rammed it back against its original place against the fence, pushing back against the gate and the Walkers.

“Kill them now! Hurry!”

He bought them some time.

Daichi couldn’t stand by and do nothing.  
He turned around and ran back into the balcony room, disappearing into the hallway.

Suga didn’t have time to question him, and he trusted Daichi knew what he was doing.

Arrow after arrow, even faster than before, he fired into the Walkers.  
Tanaka joined him in killing the Walkers as well, spearing them through the gaps in the fence.   
It was an efficient tactic, in fact, Tanaka was killing them faster than Suga at this point.

Ukai’s shirt was drenched in sweat, using all his power to hold up against the swarm inches away.  
He couldn’t let all their work go to waste now.  
They were literally almost there.

Dead hands sometimes grabbed a hold of his arms and legs, but he quickly shook them off.  
Ukai had to divide his focus between keeping the plate in place and trying to avoid getting bitten.

Then Suga was completely out of arrows.  
This had been his last batch, Kiyoko had specifically told him after dividing the last ammunition stock between them two rotations ago.

He cursed under his breath.  
He couldn’t risk using his knives and accidentally landing one in the back of Tanaka’s head.  
Suga wasn’t nearly as confident with his knife-throwing ability as he was with his bow and arrows.

Gritting his teeth, he watched as Tanaka speared down yet another one.  
Suga couldn’t help anymore.  
Right when they needed it the most.

“Didn’t I tell you to wake me up _after_ this whole shitshow was over and done with?”

Suga turned around, and he had never been more happy to see the grumpy blonde.  
Bouncing past him was Yamaguchi, with his quiver still filled with arrows and his bow in his hand.  
Daichi followed behind, resembling a Walker himself the way he sauntered after them, yawning unapologetically.

“Suga!”  
Yamaguchi joined the older man on the balcony, radiating energy despite the bags under his eyes.  
“I still have arrows!”

“Thank god you have, you couldn’t have arrived at a better time,” Suga sighed, taking a few arrows from Yamaguchi.  
Both lined up, and without another word, they once again joined the fight against the undead.

Yamaguchi had been just what Suga needed.

He had been what they all needed at this very moment.

With joined efforts from Ukai, Tanaka, Suga and Yamaguchi, they finally saw a change in the amount of Walkers gathering.  
Bit by bit, they slaughtered them down, finally evening them out.  
At some point Tanaka joined Ukai in holding the reinforcement up, because the man was nearly falling over from exhaustion.

By then Yamaguchi and Suga could handle the rest of the remaining Walkers themselves, until the whole area near the gate was nothing but truly dead corpses filled with arrows.

“Just to be sure,” Ukai breathed softly, “We need to reattach this plate. But I think that we’re officially. . .”

“Finally fucking done,” Daichi rested his warm hand on Suga’s shoulder, sighing loudly in pure relief.

“ _Oh my god._ ”  
Suga nearly collapsed where he stood.  
He used the balcony railing as support, as he watched how Ukai and Tanaka refastened the dented plate to its original place.  
They also placed the barricade back.

“Come to the hearth room!” Ukai called out, before entering the orphanage.

“What. . . ?” Tsukishima uttered, “And why the hell should we do that?”

Suga didn’t know either, but he let Daichi lead him out of the room, through the hallway, down the stairs.  
They were closely followed by Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, both equally as tired and confused.

Kiyoko was already there, talking to Ukai in a soft voice, while Tanaka was spread out on the carpet in front of the hearth.

Resting his head on Daichi’s shoulder, they sat down. Suga could barely keep his eyes open.

“Ukai, why? Let me sleep,” Tsukishima said, fully irritated, as he sat down in the chair.

“Well,” Ukai started, “Because your old leader doesn’t have long to live anymore.”  
He sounded a bit melancholic-- trying to act as if he didn’t care, but failed in hiding that he, in fact, did care.

Slowly, he pulled up the hem of his pants on his right leg.

Clear as day, instantly recognizable, a bleeding bite mark.

“ _No_ ,” Suga whispered in disbelief, looking away. But it was still there when he looked again.  
“No, why?!”

Kiyoko looked down at her lap, Tanaka mouth was wide open and Tsukishima just stared at the mark.  
Silent tears ran down Yamaguchi’s face, his eyes clouded over as he too, stared at the wound.

Daichi had no words.  
He just didn’t.  
He didn’t know what to say to this revelation.

Ukai sighed softly, a small smile tugging around his mouth.  
“It had to happen someday. _God_ , am I glad it happened to me and not any of you little brats.”

Suga covered his mouth as his own tears started to fall, choked gasps leaving his throat.

Kiyoko hugged herself silently, biting her bottom lip, holding back her own tears.

Ukai turned to Daichi with a stern expression on his face.  
“Sawamura Daichi. Hereby I appoint you as the next leader of Karasuno. We need to all discuss the future for a bit so I can rest in peace and leave you behind knowing you will be fine. I know that you’re all tired, but. . .”

“. . . No, that’s. . .” Daichi choked out, shaking his head slightly, “We can most definitely stay up a lot longer, don’t. . . don’t worry about that. . . but are you really sure? . . . Me. . . ?”

“Most sure I’ve ever been,” Ukai nodded with an encouraging grin, “Let me give you all one last speech. . . though I wish Hinata, Noya and Asahi could be here as well. . . It can’t be helped.”

He waited for a bit, watching the six members of Karasuno fondly. Ukai had never been one for sentimentality, rarely showing how much he truly cared about all of them, so this will be his last chance.

Ukai saw how Daichi gently held Suga close, his arm safely wrapped around the silver-haired man’s slender shoulders, letting him cry.  
How Yamaguchi freely bawled, having Tsukishima fuss about him, attempting to calm him down with soft words, despite the trembling in his own voice.  
How Kiyoko tried to hold her own tears back, and how Tanaka layed there, stunned, covering his face with his hands.

He thought about how excited Asahi had been when the first crops started to grow in his little garden, how Nishinoya pumped up everyone no matter what circumstances, and how Hinata’s smile could lift anyone out of the darkest abyss.

He thought about everyone they had lost along the way.  
Tanaka Saeko, having snuck into Aobajohsai territory, killed by Hanamaki Takahiro after meeting each other on a scavenge hunt for life-saving medical supplies.  
Narita Kazuhito, committed suicide.  
Takeda Ittetsu, died to an unknown illness due to Kuroo Tetsurou’s betrayal.  
Kinoshita Hisashi, unexpectedly meeting on the territory border, killed by Iwaizumi Hajime after Kinoshita first killed Mizoguchi Sadayuki.  
Ennoshita Chikara, bitten by a Thinker.

Ukai smiled when he met their gazes, with their dark circles and puffed up eyes.

“Have you cried enough? Alright, then listen. I want you all to promise me to never give up. To always be there for each other, and protect each other. To not linger in the past, but to look forward in the future.”

Ukai wasn’t afraid of death.  
Not anymore.  
Not when he’s killed the dead itself so many times already.

He imagined that, or liked to believe that, if you lived on this world in these circumstances, you’d go to Heaven, no matter what.  
This world was hell.  
He couldn’t imagine a place worse.  
All that’s left was Heaven.

After all the suffering, the death and the sorrow.

It reassured him.  
For sure, he’d meet all of them again.  
Everyone they had lost in all those years.

“Emotions make you real, tears make you human. It’s okay to cry, it’s okay to be sad. As long as you never forget the moments you felt happiness and joy. As long as you can pick yourself back up again.”

Everyone was listening to his words, the last tears wiped away.

“You will all, always be, my crows. As long as you’re together, you can take down any foe. If you want to, you can fly.”

Ukai laughed softly.  
“And I’ll be watching you from beyond my grave. Don’t you dare slack off.”

None of them would ever forget those words.  
They’d keep it in their hearts, to remind themselves.

Everyone made their way once again outside.

“Make sure to burn those corpses tomorrow,” Ukai said, gesturing towards the Walker masses around the fence.  
Looking up into the sky, he sighed calmly, satisfied.

“Just bury me somewhere in the garden,” he added.

Ukai explicitly told them he wanted to just get it over with, and kill him before he could even remotely turn into a Walker.  
Of course, Daichi agreed.

Once more within two weeks, they took the two shovels out of the tool room, and Suga and Tsukishima started to dig.  
Nobody said a word. only the soft, rhythmic thumping of sand heaped upon the ground could be heard.

They ignored the pain in their muscles as they dug, sweat rolling down their dirtied, bloody faces.

Both stepped away from the grave.

“Remember, that I’m watching over you all. You’re never alone. Make sure to tell the other three the same thing when they come back,” Ukai hummed.

Daichi nodded.  
Suga joined him at his side, as a pillar of emotional strength.

He cocked the gun in his hand.

Trembling slightly, he pointed it point blank at the side of Ukai’s head, who calmly gazed away from them all.

Ukai gave a small nod.

Daichi swallowed once.

Then he pulled the trigger.

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


“They wouldn’t attack us when we’re all together like this, right?” Lev asked, touching the scar on the side of his head, tracing it along.  
“Even Ushijima can’t take all of us down. . . right?”

Yaku sighed, a common form of reply to Lev, but he very well understood his overly tall comrade’s concerns. Lev almost fell victim to Shiratorizawa before, surviving due to a bit of luck and his own self preservation instinct.  
The scar had healed, but the whole experience instilled a trauma in Lev’s mind.

Kuroo shook his head.  
“No way. As horrible as it may sound, there’s a reason for us four still being alive. We’ve survived this far. Now we just need to stick together and find Fukurodani.”

“I hope they’re okay. . .” Kenma mumbled, “If you think about it, it’s. . . Shiratorizawa already wiped other groups clean off the world before. Date Tech, Nohebi, Inarizaki. . . To me, it seems like. . .”

“. . . they’re trying to rid Tokyo of every other group,” Kuroo finished, agreeing.  
“That must be it. Any group alive forms a danger to their own survival.”

“I wonder,” Yaku mumbled, “If Shiratorizawa thinks we’re the weakest group.”

“Hah! They’ve got another thing comin’ if that’s how it is!” Kuroo grinned his lopsided, toothy grin, “As long as we can reach Fukurodani--”

“They did kill half of us,” Kenma interrupted, shrugging, “So maybe we _are_ one of the weakest.”

“Kenma, Kenma,” Kuroo sighed, wrapping his arm around the smaller man’s shoulders, “We are Nekoma. We ain’t going to give up, no matter what.”

“You were really close to giving up yesterday,” Kenma muttered, gazing to the side. He looked out on the blue, calm sea.  
They’d been sticking close to the enormous lake of water, both because it would be more difficult for them to get ambushed, and because it was nearly the quickest way to get to the forest on the right half of Tokyo.  
The forest, and Fukurodani’s territory.

Nekoma’s home was a fully intact, though unmoving, yacht floating in Tokyo bay. It was a perfect place away from Walkers, but on the other side, if _humans_ were to attack the yacht, Nekoma would be at a disadvantage.

They had only taken their most valuable and useful items, all four remaining members of Nekoma carrying a bag on their back, and abandoned the ship.  
There was nothing left for them here.  
They’d always be haunted by the sudden deaths of their friends if they stayed.

Fukurodani has always been their ally.  
They used to be closely bonded with Karasuno in the past as well, but Kuroo had to sacrifice that bond in exchange for Kenma’s life.  
Though Kuroo stubbornly refused to admit that had been a mistake, Kenma had voiced that he thought that it had very well been one.  
Kenma didn’t believe sacrificing a friendly, trustworthy ally filled with so many people was worth his own, single life-- at which point they weren’t even sure those medical supplies could save him.  
It did, but that's beside the point.

Kenma liked Karasuno, and he had an orange-haired friend over there, too.  
A friend he hasn’t seen in years.

“Oh, we have to hurry! It’s going to rain tonight, I can feel it,” Lev said with a grin, interrupting Kuroo’s train of thought.

“You’re not _feeling_ anything! Anyone can tell by those clouds it’s going to rain!”   
Yaku shook his head, looking up to the sky.   
Dark clouds indeed covered the heaven as far as the eye could see, ominously hovering over Tokyo.

“We’ll make it, don’t worry,” Kuroo waved his hand around, laid-back.  
“I’m more worried about running into Shiratorizawa than about rain, gonna be honest with ya there.”

They haven’t heard anything of Fukurodani in months.  
And it was concerning, but at that time, Nekoma was dealing with their own problems.

Kuroo knew damn well that Bokuto could take care of himself-- then again, Akaashi seemed to always be taking care of Bokuto more than he did himself-- but he and the man have always been really good friends.

“I’m going to teach that horned owl bastard a lesson about leaving a dear friend in the dark for literal months, when I see him,” Kuroo decided.

“Might want to do that _after_ asking for his help,” Yaku said, keeping his eye on a lone Walker inching towards them.

“We’re not asking for his help, we’re just checking in to see how they’re doing, like good friends would do.”  
“Of course, you keep telling yourself that, Kuroo.”

“You know, they might all be dead,” Lev chimed in.

The three of them all collectively sighed.

“For fuck’s sake, Lev,” Kuroo breathed, “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“Why is he like this?” Yaku wondered, sounding genuinely curious.  
“We should’ve thrown him overboard the moment his sorry ass showed up in the bay.”

“. . . we should have,” Kenma agreed, barely loud enough for anyone to hear.

It was completely silent.  
Lev looked down at all of them, blinking his cat-like, emerald eyes, clueless.

Kuroo snorted once.

Silence.

Then he started laughing.  
Kuroo definitely had that kind of laugh that, once you heard it, it’d be really hard not to join him.  
Nobody of Nekoma had heard it in a long while now, and it worked like a charm on their mentally strained minds.

Yaku rolled his eyes, yet a smile tugged on his lips, and he huffed in an attempt to stifle any laughter.

“ _Fuck you_ , Lev,” Kuroo grumbled, good-naturedly, taking deep breaths, “I can’t decide whether you’re a blessing or a curse.”

Lev simply smiled, “I don’t know what I did, but it’s good to see you laughing again.”

He voiced what both Yaku and Kenma thought.

  
  


**xxx**

His nonsensical humming echoed between the walls of the hallway, between the steel doors.  
Sauntering through, every now and then, Tendou peeked inside the cells.

Walkers, Runners, Thinkers.  
All separated in groups, locked up in the different cells.

For as long as he can remember, Shiratorizawa has always used the Tokyo Detention Centre as their primary hideout.  
It was where Tendou’s obsession with Walkers began, as it was a perfect place for observing the undead safely.  
He kept them in the cells, collecting them like some would collect stamps.

Though these ‘stamps’ were out for his life.

Over the years, the cells got fuller and fuller, and one day he got an idea.  
He opened a few cells of groups of Walkers, lead them outside the facility, straight into Aobajohsai’s territory.  
That was long ago, but from there on out, his ‘experiments’ and ‘ideas’ became crazier, more dangerous and resulted into more horrific consequences for whichever group he targeted next.

Usually it was Aobajohsai, but occasionally Fukurodani became a victim as well.

But he didn’t just use the Walkers to torment other groups.  
He observed them.  
Experimented _on_ them.

How much can you remove off of a Walker’s body until it dies?  
How long until they die if you set them on fire?  
How and when do they know a living being is around for them to snack on?

All those questions simply surfaced into his mind on random occasions.  
Sometimes when taunting Semi, sometimes while out hunting.

Then for the following days, weeks or even months, he attempted to get an answer to those questions.  
Tendou knew it was dangerous, but being bored and sitting around doing nothing was just annoying, in his opinion.

Though he liked irritating and scaring Semi-- for some reason, his reactions were the funniest to him-- Tendou would never let any of his group members get hurt because of him.  
He’d promised it to Ushijima when he allowed Tendou to use part of the Detention Centre for his experiments, but even without that promise, he would never.

Tendou wondered who survived the herd he and Goshiki let loose a few days ago.  
Luring that Oikawa in to save his friend worked, but he didn’t know if they managed to find a way to escape.  
It had been the largest herd yet, but he knew Oikawa was clever.

He sighed.  
Oikawa probably survived.  
Perhaps even found a way to save all three of them.

But at what cost, he wondered.  
Herds were the embodiment of everything that was wrong in this world.

Even if nobody died, Tendou knew he had inflicted psychological damage to _someone_.  
If one person died, the rest of Aobajohsai would mourn.  
If someone got bitten, but managed to escape the herd, they’d have to deal with putting that person out of their misery.  
If Oikawa died, Aobajohsai had lost their strongest wildcard.  
If that Iwaizumi guy died, but Oikawa survived, the latter _might_ just jump off a roof.

Besides, he’d made sure Yahaba wouldn’t return without. . . new Walker experiences.

But who knows, Tendou was just guessing.  
He was surprisingly good at that, _especially_ in relation to behaviors in other people.

He knew every member of Aobajohsai by name, ever since Ushijima officially declared them as their most dangerous enemy.

Ushijima may prefer wiping out gangs quickly and in one go, but Tendou liked to have some fun with it.  
They could all die due to random karma bestowed upon them by Mother Nature any day, so Tendou was going to enjoy it while his feeble life lasted.

He arrived at the last few cells of the block.  
They were empty, but Tendou had great plans for them.

Those great plans derived from one question he asked himself today, after explaining to Ushijima why there were two Runners running around in one of the unused hallways.  
Just an experiment.

How much can you remove off of a human’s body until they turn into a Walker?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	9. Unknown Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Kags continues to angst on his own.  
> Also, progress. In more than one way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of wish I hadn't written off Inarizaki as easily as I did in this story, seeing how much I loved the latest episode of HQ season 4--  
> I'll be sure to make them a main player in my next fic lmao

_Cut this connection off as quick and cleanly as possible._

Kageyama hadn’t signed up for this when he decided to save the orange-haired male out of the crater.  
It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision.  
When he saw him fall down, fleeing from the herd, guilt weighed down on Kageyama.  
Besides, he recognized that orange hair.  
It could only be him.

He knew very well that the male was injured and in danger because of him and Oikawa.  
Kageyama wanted to save him, and let him go after the herd cleared out of the area.

But he hadn’t signed up for an emotional bond.

He didn’t _want_ an emotional bond.

Especially not with Hinata.  
_Not again.  
_Kageyama was just going to end up hurt, with Hinata being unaware of _everything_.

Yet here he was.

Unable to push Hinata away, frozen in place.

Hinata’s injured leg idly stretched, his hand clutching the fabric of Kageyama’s clothing.  
The room had heated up, the warmth unable to escape through the window and isolated within.

But that was not the only reason Kageyama felt hot.

Hinata’s slender body was pressed up against him, his face hidden in Kageyama’s shoulder.  
He was trembling.  
The sight overwhelmed Kageyama with a sense of familiarity.

Kageyama’s rejection of Hinata had been strong, and it seemed like the latter didn’t take the sudden change in attitude well.  
He’d been fully dependent on Kageyama for nearly four days, and Kageyama had destroyed it all with a few words.  
Hinata was used to being around his group, and not one single person who he didn’t even know-- Kageyama may prefer solitude, Hinata didn’t.  
He liked being around people.

For the past few days, Kageyama was all he had.

Then out of nowhere, Kageyama told Hinata he didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, after he’s brought Hinata safely back to the orphanage, with his group.

“. . . I don’t get it,” Hinata muttered, not looking at Kageyama.  
“I don’t get _you_.”

“That’s not something I haven’t heard before,” Kageyama informed him, “Now stop clinging to my arm.”

Hinata’s strong grip only tightened, pursing his lips childishly.  
“ _You_ promised you’d teach _me_ how to read. _You_ made _me_ promise to _you_ that we’d go hunting together!”

Did Hinata not listen to Kageyama’s slightly suspicious explanation earlier, at all?

“I already told you why! Tomorrow, when you know the goddamn truth about why I was even around to save you, you _will_ hate me. And it’s just going to be annoying if you get more attached to me than you already are!”

“I’m _not--_ I’m not attached to you! _Bakageyama_!”

“You’re literally physically holding on to me and you’re telling me you’re not attached?!”

“You’re only running away! Saying you’ll tell me the ‘truth’ or whatever right before we have to part ways tomorrow, that’s just-- you’re not doing that for my sake, but for your own!”

Tilting his head, Kageyama glared down right back at Hinata, whose own eyes were burning with anger, his eyebrows curved downwards.  
Still holding onto Kageyama, though.

“You’re just a coward!”

And something within Kageyama snapped.  
With a hiss, he easily pushed the ginger down to the floor, hovering over him.  
He ignored the wincing coming out of Hinata’s mouth when his injured leg scraped the floor.

Inches away from Hinata’s face-- who wore a surprised expression, but not scared-- Kageyama bit his bottom lip.

“So what if I am?! Don’t you understand?”

Hinata’s eyes widened a little bit as he listened, his expression softening.

“You’ve lived in this world. You _know_ what it’s like to lose the people you care about. I _don’t_ _want_ to care about you. I don’t want to go through that again!”

His chest heaved up and down in heavy, frustrated breaths.  
His mind was completely losing it, carefully hidden secrets nearly pouring out.

Hinata didn’t say a word for a while.  
He just looked at Kageyama.

“. . . I do understand,” Hinata finally muttered.   
“And you’re wrong.”

Kageyama raised an eyebrow, then sighed.  
Realizing the position they were in, he let go of Hinata’s wrists, and sat back down.  
He hadn’t meant to lose his cool.

Using his elbows to prop himself up, back in a more comfortable position, Hinata absentmindedly poked one of the pieces of wood that stuck out, pushing it back into the flames.

“Kageyama. . . maybe you’re going to be right. Perhaps I will come to hate you,” he said, “. . . But I also thought I’d hate you, three days ago, when you were cold to me and called me a dumbass all the time.”

Kageyama opened his mouth to retort, but he quickly closed it again.  
He didn’t see the need.  
Hinata wasn’t wrong.

“All I’m saying, is that I won’t hate you forever, probably. Time heals. Horrible things happen all the time.”

Hinata surprisingly sounded mature for once-- a thought Kageyama kept to himself.

“. . . right, okay.”  
Kageyama nodded, the words sounding like he found confirmation for _something_.  
He couldn’t be bothered anymore, he was tired.  
In general.  
Just tired.  
Of knowing things that Hinata had forgotten, remembering a past Hinata didn’t know he had.  
“See if you can repeat those words when I tell you the truth.”

Despite that, he made a choice, after careful consideration.

One more lie.  
For Hinata’s sake.

Because Kageyama knew better than to involve Oikawa and Aobajohsai with Karasuno.  
It’d create tension between the two groups, and potentially a gang war when it could be avoided simply by leaving out some information.  
People would die.  
And Karasuno would lose.

Kageyama took a deep breath, inhaling the smoky, warm air.  
Hinata perked up; he noticed the change.

“I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything.”  
Except Oikawa’s involvement in it all.

“The previous group I used to be with, was Aobajohsai. You’ve probably never heard of me because I simply never involved myself with other groups. I just liked hunting,” Kageyama revealed, his voice clear.  
“And Oikawa wasn’t going to namedrop me in front of rivaling groups in a million years. He’s too much of a prideful asshole to do so.”

Kageyama swallowed.  
He refused to look at Hinata, who hadn’t made a single noise yet.  
Now came the hardest part.

A truth and a lie mixed together.

 _For Hinata’s sake.  
_For Hinata’s group, Karasuno’s sake.

“I was the one who lead the herd into your territory.”

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


His finger trailed Daichi’s jawline, resting his forehead against the sleeping male’s.

It was cold, so Suga wriggled a bit further underneath the blanket.  
He watched as Daichi’s chest heaved up and down slowly, calmly.

After Ukai’s burying, the only thing they could do was sleep, hoping to temporarily forget the nightmare of the previous day and night.  
Suga wished it had just been a nightmare.  
But everything pointed towards it not being one.  
This was real.

They lost their leader to the herd.

There was no sunlight shining outside through the curtains.  
It was dark, yet day.  
He vaguely remembered waking up once, due to heavy raining outside.  
But now, Suga swore he saw snowflakes through the small gap between the curtains, though he couldn’t be bothered to move out of the warm bed and check.

Oikawa Tooru.  
This was all his fault.

He remembered the sight.

Like an angel of _hell_ , Oikawa lonesomely standing on top of the car wreck.  
Pointing his silver gun to the heavens.  
Shooting the last bullet of judgement.

They didn’t deserve this.  
Karasuno hadn’t made any enemies in the last three, four years.  
Nobody of their group dared to go anywhere near another gang’s territory again, after they lost Kinoshita to Aobajohsai.

It could have had something to do with Shiratorizawa.  
Shiratorizawa may be the initiator, forcing Oikawa to do something to protect his own group.

Yet.

Suga will not forget.

Karasuno will not forget what Oikawa Tooru, and by default Aobajohsai, brought upon them.

Daichi flinched in his sleep.  
Suga noticed the dark rims, accompanied by a puffy, red swelling, underneath Daichi’s eyes.

Suga had asked if he minded if they slept together that night.  
He didn’t want to sleep alone, not after everything that had happened.  
And Daichi agreed without hesitation.

Just being in the presence of each other, was reassuring.

Still, Suga felt torn.  
On one hand, he was relieved that he, Daichi and everyone else lived-- but then there was Ukai, who died to protect them all.

Suga felt nauseous thinking about possibilities in regards to their three missing members.  
Hinata, Nishinoya and Asahi-- they could all be dead, for all he knew.

He shook his head.  
He had to believe in them.

“. . . how are you feeling?”

Meeting Daichi’s tired, dark brown eyes, Suga sighed softly.  
“. . . as good as I can feel, in this situation,” he mumbled.

Daichi pressed a kiss on his nose, nodding.  
He understood.  
A day’s sleep has done them good, but lingering feelings from the past night and day remained, though eased slightly.

“I don’t know if I can--” Daichi started, “If I can really lead Karasuno. I don’t know if I’m good enough to make those grand-scale decisions.”

“. . . Ukai chose you for a reason. If he didn’t believe you were the right person, he simply wouldn’t have chosen you,” Suga answered.  
He understood Daichi’s worries, but Suga was a firm believer that absolutely nobody else in Karasuno was better fit to lead them into the future.

Daichi’s expression told him that the man wasn’t convinced.

“If it ever gets too much, I’m right behind you,” Suga added.

“I don’t want you behind me, I want you beside me. We’re partners, Koushi.”  
“So you’re _basically_ saying I get special treatment?”  
“Wait, no, that’s not-- I mean--”

“Dear lord, Daichi, I’m joking,” Suga breathed, surprised at himself he could even crack a ghost of a joke at this point in time.

“I feel like Ukai just left me a whole bunch of rowdy children to take care of,” Daichi groaned.  
“. . . with three of said children missing.”

Ukai’s words before he died had very much eased the pain.  
Suga truly believed in his words; Ukai was still watching over them.

It was okay to cry, but not to linger in the past.

They couldn’t afford to linger.

Suga was not looking forward to telling Hinata, Asahi and Noya about Ukai’s fate.  
He knew they loved their leader just as much, but they hadn’t been able to properly say goodbye like the rest here at the orphanage.

A muscular arm snaked around Suga’s waist, pulling him a bit closer.  
Suga started to fiddle with the hem of Daichi’s shirt, absentmindedly.

“What are we going to do today?”  
Because Suga had absolutely no clue on how to resume back to their daily lives from before the herd.

“. . . First, we’re gonna burn those Walkers outside. It’ll smell, but we’re just going to have to deal with that. Then we need to check our stocks,” Daichi said, humming softly.  
Suga felt the vibrations as he rested his head on the man’s chest, closing his eyes.

“Our first priority is restocking our arrows, since we’re nearly out of those. Preferably get them back to our original amount within two days, if possible. Which means a lot of forest hunting for branches.”

“Better than sitting around in the orphanage. It’ll be a welcome change of pace, I’m sure. Just casually collecting branches for arrows. . .”

“From there on out we’re just going to go back to how it was before. Hunting, scavenging. Eating meat together in front of the hearth. Judging Noya’s jokes. . . and you know what I also think we should all do?”

Daichi looked down at Suga.

“What?”

“Take a bath.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that with me in your arms.”

  
  


**xxx**

Despite Hanamaki’s desperate attempts to keep Oikawa in his room, Iwaizumi was easily bribed.  
Their leader did not stay bedridden for even the first day after his night of return to Aobajohsai.

A little bit of shameless flirting goes a long way, Oikawa discovered.

The moment it was known Oikawa escaped, Kindaichi fled into his own room, locking it to keep the man out.  
Iwaizumi had seen the way Oikawa eyed him from across the hallway, his intent very clear; Kindaichi wasn’t going to hear the end of his clothing choices for Oikawa last night if he stayed any longer.

“Just leave it,” Iwaizumi sighed, brushing his fingers through Oikawa’s dark brown hair. Oikawa’s expression relaxed a bit, his head resting on the man’s thigh, dangling his long legs over the sofa’s armrest as Iwaizumi combed through his hair.

“Have mercy on poor Kindaichi, Oikawa,” Hanamaki said from the other couch across, “He was so worried for you, and he helped getting you into the mansion safely.”

“We were all worried, but it seems like you’re fine already,” Matsukawa added, sitting down next to Hanamaki.  
“So, since you’re feeling well enough to be spoiled by Iwaizumi. . . We should talk about what we’re going to do about Shiratorizawa. They’re getting pushier by the day.”

“Besides that, we’re also running out of medical supplies,” Hanamaki said.

Oikawa hummed, clicking his tongue at the sheer mention of the rival group.

“Two can go on a supply scavenge today near the centre of our territory,” Oikawa then suggested, “No, wait. From now on, let’s go in teams of three. And make sure at least two of a team have a gun.

Iwaizumi silently nodded in agreement.  
They always used to go outside in teams of two, but desperate times call for desperate measures.  
Every run in with Shiratorizawa so far has been with either one or two of them, versus two of Aobajohsai.

And there are patterns.  
Oikawa knows who of Shiratorizawa is confident enough to go out alone, and who prefers in teams.

If Shirabu Kenjirou is around, Semi Eita is never far away, and vice versa.  
Goshiki Tsutomu switches between Ushijima Wakatoshi and Tendou Satori.  
The other half of the time, the latter two go alone or rarely with each other.

Rarely, but the combination of Ushijima and Tendou is also the most dangerous one.

“Much else we can’t really do against Shiratorizawa itself,” Matsukawa mumbled, thinking of countermeasures-- but what could they do?  
Aobajohsai’s best chance against the group is simply being very careful close to the border and not being spotted, or if they do run into Shiratorizawa, overwhelming them with a team of three instead of two.

“I know Kyoutani for a fact would love to infiltrate that Tokyo Detention Centre and surprise them,” Hanamaki snorted, “But I told him that no matter how well prepared he’d be, that would be a suicide mission.”

“For sure. I’m pretty sure that Tendou is practicing some. . . questionable things in there. He seems to have a better understanding of Walkers than us, but that’s something that I’ve always kind of thought.”

“Even if we initiated a surprise attack, we’d be the ones to be surprised with what we find in that building,” Iwaizumi joined, his hand idly petting Oikawa’s hair.  
“. . . still can’t believe Tendou managed to redirect a herd that large into our territory, though.”

“Iwa-chan, that man is crazy,” Oikawa concluded, his eyes twinkling as he stared up to Iwaizumi.

“Which just means you’re crazier, because you managed to both divert that herd and make sure all of us lived through it.”

Before Oikawa could retort, fast thumping down the stairs made everyone turn their head.  
Nearly rolling down the stairway, Yahaba practically beamed at the sight of Oikawa.  
They hadn’t seen each other yet after Oikawa’s return.

Leaning up from Iwaizumi’s lap, Aobajohsai’s leader smiled genuinely at the sight, glad to see Yahaba had recovered-- physically, at least.

Stopping in front of the couch, Yahaba swallowed.  
“. . . Thank you. For coming to find me back then. I believed you would.”

“Of course we’d come for you,” Oikawa hummed, surprisingly honest, “No matter what, we’re a family.”

With a respectful nod, Yahaba sat down next to Matsukawa on the couch.  
“Shido, he. . .”

Leaning back, Oikawa watched him, tilting his head slightly.  
“You don’t have to talk about it, yet, if it’s too soon.”

“No! No, it’s. . .”  
Balling his fists, Yahaba frowned, staring at the ground.  
“Goshiki killed him at the border.”

Everyone in the room was silent.

“I had to watch how he-- Shido begged to live, you know? But he just killed him. No show, just. . . a bullet through his head.”

“. . . He would have suffered a worse fate if it was Tendou who found you two,” Matsukawa mumbled.  
“But Goshiki took you back to their hideout, right?”

Yahaba nodded.  
“Yeah. Oikawa, I’ve-- I’ve _seen_ it,” he said, his face scrunched up at the memory, “Rows and rows with cells, filled with Walkers. They’re _keeping_ them within the Tokyo Detention Centre!”

Oikawa hissed through his teeth, “I think we can safely assume that Tendou’s the initiator behind that.”

Iwaizumi was surprised, but not as much as he thought he’d be.  
He’s seen the Centre from high above, safely from within Aobajohsai territory, often enough, and the building was enormous.  
Enormous, and completely intact.

“Well, that explains the thing we were talking about earlier,” Matsukawa said, “About Tendou’s questionable practices. Clearly, it has something to do with that.”

“Who the hell keeps Walkers in their own hideout?” Hanamaki shook his head, in lingering disbelief.  
“And for what purpose?”

“Observation?” Iwaizumi suggested.  
“Maybe he just. . . watches them, or something.”

“All in all the only thing we know for sure, is that Tendou is definitely in second place on the Shiratorizawa murder list.”  
And with that, Oikawa effectively brought the conversation to an end.

He did not want to talk about Shiratorizawa right now, and it was obvious to everyone.  
His whole life, as long as he can remember, Oikawa hated Shiratorizawa, and specifically, Ushijima Wakatoshi.  
Even more so than Kageyama Tobio.

The only times Oikawa made mistakes was when it had to do with Shiratorizawa.  
Though Iwaizumi would argue being an asshole to Kageyama was a mistake too, as Kageyama rivaled Oikawa’s skill and had been extremely useful to the group, he wanted to hear nothing about it.

It was Iwaizumi’s task to keep Oikawa from slipping while their leader made sure Aobajohsai survived.  
Lived.

The way Oikawa had wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi’s, leaning against him, he looked tame as can be.  
Nothing like the way he looked when focused, when fighting, or when he looked at something-- someone-- he hated from the bottom of his heart.

The way he looked now. . . reminded everyone in the room that Oikawa was human, too.  
In this world, such a thing was easy to forget.  
He was human, he made mistakes, he felt emotions.  
He couldn’t always be their strong leader.

That’s why Aobajohsai was such a tight-knit group.  
They knew each other.  
They trusted in Oikawa to lead them, but they were still equals.

Iwaizumi noticed the way Hanamaki gave him a suggestive glance.  
The medic had definitely noticed something changed between Oikawa and Iwaizumi.

Perhaps it was the way Oikawa clung to him more than usual.  
Or the way Iwaizumi gazed fondly at the mischievous, spoiled man on his side.

He knew that Hanamaki knew, and he knew that if Hanamaki knew, Matsukawa knew too.

“I volunteer to go on a scavenge run today,” Hanamaki then said, tearing his eyes away from Iwaizumi.

“I’ll join you,” Matsukawa stood up from the couch, stretching his arms.  
“I wonder who we should snag along. . . who do you guys think? Kunimi, Kyoutani or Kindaichi?”

“ _Please_ snag Kindaichi,” Oikawa huffed.

“Kunimi’s been really lazy this past week, more than usual.”  
“Kyoutani could definitely blow off some steam, that grumpy asshole.”

“Yeah okay, thanks for nothing, you guys did not help at all,” Matsukawa sighed.  
“I’ll just take Kunimi. I can’t handle Kyoutani and Kindaichi deserves better.”

Leaving behind a disgruntled Oikawa, an amused Iwaizumi and a shrugging Yahaba, the two went upstairs to forcefully drag Kunimi out of his room.

“Maybe I should’ve gone with them, I haven’t done shit either these past couple of days,” Iwaizumi said, focusing his attention back to Oikawa.  
“Which is your fault, might I add.”

“Oh? And why would that be my fault, Iwa-chan?”  
“Because you weren’t here.”

Stretching out on the couch, relaxing a bit more now that Hanamaki’s eyes weren’t glued to him, Iwaizumi readjusted the pillow to lay his head on.  
Now that he had more room, Oikawa shifted around on his side right between the back of the couch and Iwaizumi’s body, perfectly fitting into the gap.

Amused, Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa desperately tried to find the most comfortable spot, finally settling with his head on Iwaizumi’s chest and his arm idly wrapped around him.

The two barely fit, but Oikawa somehow made it work.

“You looked like a rat, wriggling around like you just did,” Iwaizumi pointed out.  
He bit his lip as Oikawa’s expression changed from comfortably satisfied to an offended pout.

“Stop being mean to me! Iwa-chan!”

“I still like you though. . . ?” Iwaizumi tried, only to get a slightly painful fist in his stomach.

“Stop,” Oikawa demanded, “Or else.” 

“Or else, what?”  
“Or else I will _never_ sleep in your room again.”

“Now that just sounds like a blessing to me,” Iwaizumi stifled a chuckle, barely.

Looking up, resting his chin on Iwaizumi’s chest, pursing his lips, “You don’t mean that. . .”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he admitted.  
“Though from now on, I’d rather you just say so beforehand if you want to sleep with me, and not barge into my room at midnight.”

Iwaizumi thought he saw Oikawa’s cheeks tint red, but the latter quickly buried his face into Iwaizumi’s sweater before he could confirm.  
He felt Oikawa nod.

From the corner of his eye Iwaizumi saw Yahaba pretending to look outside the window, but it was quite obvious the young man had been listening to their casual banter, trying not to laugh.

He watched as Matsukawa and Hanamaki dragged an unwilling yet unresisting Kunimi down the stairs, idly hanging in between the older men.  
Just before they left, significantly sleepy, Oikawa warned them.

“Be careful, cause there will still be some Walkers from the herd left behind.”

When they had left, after reassuring their leader that if there were too many Walkers, they’d just turn back around, Oikawa nestled even closer against Iwaizumi, closing his eyes.

Peaceful.

No Walkers.  
Warmth.  
Safe.  
With Oikawa.

For the first time in three days, Iwaizumi truly felt at ease.

He listened to Oikawa’s calm, slow breathing.  
He’d fallen asleep.

Sleeping in the same room as someone else, let alone next to someone else, was truly the ultimate form of trust.  
Oikawa had been doing it for years with Iwaizumi, sneaking in his room every now and then when he needed the presence of another person.

Gently wrapping his arms around the beautiful, sleeping man next to him, Iwaizumi pulled him possibly even closer.  
He rested his head on top of Oikawa’s, simply watching over him.

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


“H-how do you think Ukai Keishin and Sawaku-- Sawamura Daichi look like?”  
Hitoka directed her question to the child on her left, who held both her and Shouyou’s hands.

“Well, Yui said Sawamura Daichi was her friend, and Yui is sixteen years old, so,” Tobio reasoned, “I-I mean, of course I don’t know how they look like, but. . . he’s probably around the same age.”

“And Ukai Keishin is the leader, right?” Shouyou asked.

Tobio nodded.  
He only knew a few more details.  
He knew that the group Sawamura Daichi had joined a year ago was called Karasuno, according to Michimiya.

Tobio held up the compass.  
It pointed straight to northwest.

The forest was getting less and less packed, and he took that as a sign that they were almost there.  
The amount of groaning and stomping of something in the forest around them grew, though.  
Tobio suspected those were the infamous Walkers Michimiya had warned him about, but he didn’t want to scare Shouyou or Hitoka, so he didn’t say anything.

Michimiya said that, if they saw a Walker, they had to run and then hide, because Walkers were slow.

Then Tobio saw it.  
Through the trees, he pointed at it, excitedly, only letting go of Hitoka’s hand for a little bit before grasping it again.  
Shouyou’s eyes widened, and Hitoka watched in awe.

Skyscrapers.  
Huge towers even higher than Tobio ever imagined.

This trek had not been easy at all.  
Tobio had decided beforehand to not cry in front of his two companions, even though often enough, he wanted to.  
But then Shouyou and Hitoka would know something was wrong.  
That they would never see Yui again, or Mao, or anyone from the camp.

“This is Tokyo,” Tobio confidently said, relieved.  
He knew for sure.

“Wow!” Shouyou cried out, quickening his pace a bit.  
“It’s so huge! How do we find Ukai Keishin in here?”

That was a very good question.  
Tobio had no idea.  
He hadn’t even thought about it.

“Ehm. . . we’ll just walk around, we’ll probably come across them. . .” Tobio trailed, suddenly not so confident anymore.

Hitoka noticed her friend faltered, but didn’t say anything about it.

For the first time in their lives, they felt sturdy asphalt under their feet instead of the soft grass.  
The buildings all towered over the three, seeming like impregnable fortresses they’d never reach.

Shouyou’s grip on Tobio’s hand tightened a bit, intimidated.  
But Tobio walked on, onto the wide street and out of the forest they knew.

Far to the left, he saw someone moving.  
He squinted his eyes, and Hitoka spotted the figure too.  
“Is that. . . ?!”

But something felt off.  
This wasn’t a human.  
Tobio just knew.  
He felt the shiver running down his spine, keeping his eyes on it but pulling Shouyou and Hitoka further away, in the opposite direction.

Ukai Keishin.  
Sawamura Daichi.  
Where could they be?

Tobio felt panic rising.

Shouyou and Hitoka were still in awe with Tokyo, looking around excitedly at all these new things.  
Car wrecks, stores, debris, street signs.

 _They would never find Ukai Keishin or Sawamura Daichi like this.  
_The sudden realisation hit Tobio like a brick in his face.

“Anyone!” he yelled, scaring Hitoka while Shouyou looked at him in surprise.  
“Please help!”

The buildings were too tall.  
The streets too long.  
The destination too far.

He saw movement all around them, from the corners of his eyes, in the many alleyways and buildings.

Hitoka’s bottom lip started trembling.  
She felt Tobio’s fear and panic.

Tobio just clutched the two closer to him, glaring around the street at the beings suddenly stepping out of the shadows.

“Someone!”

But nobody came.

“Okay, okay,” Tobio muttered, taking a few deep breaths.  
“We. . . have to find somewhere safe. We have to hide.”

“Those aren’t people?” Shouyou questioned, pointing at one of the beings inching towards them.  
Tobio shook his head.

“No, they are. . . they want to kill us,” he stated-- he didn’t know if it were completely the truth, but he knew Walkers were dangerous.

Shouyou pouted angrily.  
“Then we should kill them!”

“You don’t understand,” Tobio hissed, looking around frantically.  
“This is not a game, Shouyou!”

They couldn’t stay here.  
They had to move, no matter what.

Tobio started running, pulling Hitoka and Shouyou along.  
The latter two didn’t completely grasp the situation, and Tobio didn’t fault them for that.  
As long as they just followed him.

Walkers everywhere.  
Why?  
Why did this happen?  
They just arrived in Tokyo, Tobio thought they were safe--  
But they weren’t.

Seething through his teeth, he continued to run, thumping on the asphalt.  
He saw one of the buildings on his left had no broken windows.

With no choice left, he diverted from the street, towards said building.  
It was a large restaurant, with posters plastered all against the windows, and a plastic, colorful, old mascot of some animal stood on the side.  
Large letters above the door.

It seemed abandoned.

Tobio stopped in front of the door, letting go of his friend’s hands who could then finally catch their breaths, panting.  
He tried the door.  
Locked.

“W-why-- what’s going on, Tobio?!” Shouyou shrieked once he caught his breath, confusion adorning his face.  
“What are those things?”

“Walkers,” Tobio curtly replied, walking to the other side of the building, inspecting it for an entrance.  
There was a window.  
They could reach it, if. . . if someone sat on his back, they could climb in.

He grabbed a medium sized piece of debris from the ground, that had broken off from the wall-- due to a large crack.  
Hitoka and Shouyou followed behind him, watching, having no idea what to do.

They fully depended on Tobio to get them out of this deadly situation.

With one, perfect throw, the rock broke the glass window and flew into the building.

“Alright,” Tobio mumbled, nodding to himself.  
“Hitoka, on my back.”

He bent down before the wall, holding out his arms.

“W-what?” she yelped, before quickly making the connection.  
She gulped.

“. . . o-okay. . .”  
Carefully she wrapped her arms around Tobio’s neck, who then stood up.

“Watch out for the glass,” he mumbled.

He had to lean against the wall to support her weight.   
Reaching out her tiny arms, she could barely grip the window frame-- but she did.  
A piece of stray glass cut her hand, but she bit the pain away.

Using Kageyama’s shoulder to stand up tall, she carefully leaned up and stepped onto the window frame, and jumped down.  
She landed safely, with a happy cheer.

This building used to be a restaurant.  
Which was lucky for them, since it would have soft benches to sleep on and enough places to hide.  
It was also locked, which meant that inside it was safe.

Tobio wiped away sweat off of his forehead.  
He knew very well the consequences of this idea.  
He wouldn’t be able to get into the building himself.

“Okay, Shouyou, you next--”  
Turning back to the ginger, he saw Shouyou was frozen in shock, looking at something to the side.  
Turning as well, Tobio silently cursed in his head.

A Walker.  
Its stretched out arms reached for the two children a few meters away, groaning.  
Tobio saw it missed one eye, and its broken ribcage exposed a black, rotten heart.

Just as the situation was looking up again, of course--

“Hitoka?” Tobio called out, trying not to make his voice tremble.  
“You’re safe in that building. Don’t leave unless you’re sure there are people to save you.”

“O-okay?” came from inside.  
“Aren’t you coming in as well?”

Tobio ushered Shouyou to move backwards and closer to him.

“We can’t at the moment. There’s a Walker. . . Don’t panic. You’re safe in there,” he answered, “We’ll try and get back here to you, but. . .”

The reality was that they might not be able to return here.  
Tobio really didn’t know what else to do.  
Hitoka was smart, and she was safe, at least.

“. . . Hitoka, remember the names. Don’t panic. You may be alone for a while.”

He heard her gasp, but to his surprise, she didn’t start crying.

“. . . okay,” Hitoka said, “Okay. Tobio, Shouyou? I’ll see you soon.”

Tobio almost smiled to himself at her bravery, but the groaning of the Walker in front of him quickly diverted his attention.  
He prayed, really prayed for the first time in his life, that Hitoka would be safe.

Then he took Shouyou’s hand in his and started running, once again, away from the Walker.

“W-where are we going?”  
Tears were streaming down Shouyou’s face.

Tobio didn’t know either.  
Shouyou looked back every now and then at the building behind them.  
He knew they were leaving Hitoka behind.

Shouyou continued to cry, his hand tightly holding Tobio’s.

Tobio felt exhausted, his muscles hurt every step he took.  
He slowed down a bit, as Shouyou’s breathing got alarmingly fast.

Now the restaurant was only in the far distance.  
Tobio saw that now there were a lot of Walkers near the building, and still following the two of them.

They arrived at the neighborhood behind the restaurant.  
Filled with rows of normal family houses and remnants of once flourishing gardens.

Tobio went into the first one, quickly checking inside.  
There was a bookcase and half a table they could use to block the door.

Shouyou was still trembling where he stood, hiccuping, as he followed Tobio inside. He quietly helped with moving the furniture to block the entrances.

Neither said anything.  
Tobio felt like he’d abandoned Hitoka, but deep down he knew-- he had no other choice.  
He couldn’t have gotten Shouyou in as well in time.

Tobio sat down on the dusty, musky carpet on the ground.  
He closed his eyes, sighing as his body slowly relaxed a bit.

This house was far from a good place to hide, the restaurant was much better, but it would have to do.

He felt a tug on his sleeve, and then a small body tightly hugging him from the side.  
When Tobio opened his eyes, he was met with a face full of fluffy, orange hair.

“. . . Hitoka will be fine, you know,” Tobio hummed.

“I know, I just. . . why haven’t we found U-Ukai Keishin or. . . Sawamura Daichi, yet?”

“. . . maybe they’re out hunting.”  
“When will they come back?”  
“I don’t. . . I don’t know. . .”  
“Do they know that we were coming to Tokyo?”  
“No. . .”  
“Then how will they find us?”

The more questions Shouyou asked, the more Tobio realised how flawed their journey to Tokyo had been from the very start.  
He didn’t understand.  
Why did Michimiya sent them here?

“I don’t know, Shouyou! I don’t know!”

The addressed whimpered softly.  
“. . . Tobio?”  
“What?”

“I’m glad you’re here with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	10. Familiar Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, lies are being unfurled and exposed.
> 
> Also, hope and hopelessness lay close together.

_“I was the one who lead the herd into your territory.”_

Hinata swallowed.  
He had prepared himself for a revelation like this, but it just really, really hurt.  
Even now, he felt like Kageyama was still withholding things from him.

Every death that occured due to the herd would be deemed Kageyama’s fault.

Of course, Hinata didn’t know if anyone from Karasuno even died, but he would know, soon.  
Only a few hours and he and Kageyama would attempt to get Hinata to the orphanage.

Kageyama hadn’t said a word to him ever since telling Hinata the truth, and that was four hours ago.

Hinata thought about it all in those four hours.  
Did he still trust Kageyama?  
Strangely, yes.  
He did.  
And he had no idea why.  
He knew that he should hate the man with all his heart, but something prevented him from doing so.

Kageyama meanwhile had gone outside Johzenji’s hideout, checking the perimeters to see if it were safe to travel.  
He’d left Hinata with the last remainders of the berries and the water-- the water which Hinata knew Kageyama hadn’t drank much from-- to let him process it all.

It had been clear by Hinata’s expression that he’d rather be left alone for a while, and Kageyama wordlessly excused himself outside.  
Otherwise they might start arguing, and permanently break everything they build up these past few days.

To Hinata it was obvious that Kageyama felt guilty.  
Kageyama had nothing to do with Karasuno or Hinata before leading that herd into their territory, which made Hinata curious; why?   
Why lead Kageyama the herd into Karasuno territory?  
Why did he feel guilty about it?  
Why decide to save Hinata?

Those questions were exactly the kind that made Hinata so sure that Kageyama was still hiding important pieces of the puzzle from him.

But Hinata couldn’t figure it out, and it frustrated him to a degree he’d never felt before.  
He wanted to talk to Kageyama right now, ask him why, to get answers-- but he couldn’t walk.  
Hinata was still injured.

The best he could manage was hold onto the window frame and pull himself up, so that he could lean against it and look outside.  
That’s exactly what he did.

His injured leg was stiff and he couldn’t feel his muscles, but Hinata managed.

He saw Kageyama.  
The moment he did, he was acutely aware of everything he felt.

The pure, unfiltered hatred, was very low, whether Hinata liked it or not.   
Maybe he would hate him when he knew if someone from Karasuno had died or not, but for now, he couldn’t.

Hinata just felt sad.  
Sad that while the herd brought him and Kageyama together, it also drove them apart.  
Sad that right when both of them had warmed up to each other, the truth broke it down.  
Sad that Kageyama still didn’t trust him enough to explain everything.

Then again, Hinata had asked for it.  
He convinced Kageyama to tell him, not believing it could be something as bad as Kageyama made it out to be-- but then it was.

The truth hurt.

It hurt both of them, in very different ways.

But Hinata was also glad Kageyama told him.  
Their future together would be nonexistent if Hinata had found out this truth later down the line.

This couldn’t be fixed right away.  
Not yet.

But it could be, at some point, later in the future.

He watched as Kageyama slid down the slope of the crater.  
There were still Walkers, the ones who had nearly killed Hinata before, and it seemed like Kageyama felt the same as he did; sick and tired of their groaning and moaning all day and night.

With his spear, he cut them down with such ease one would almost question why Walkers were even a threat to begin with.

Powerful strikes, dancing around the Walkers and cutting into their undead bodies like a mad ballad, guts splattering into the mud.

Hinata wished he could run again.  
Jump and walk and run and fight-- but his leg still needed time to heal.  
He’d have to ask Kiyoko if she’d stitch the wound together, a necessary procedure which Hinata was not looking forward to.

Suga, Daichi, Ukai, Noya, Tanaka, Kiyoko, Yamaguchi, Asahi and even Tsukishima. . .  
He wanted to see them all so badly.  
Yet a fraction of him also wanted to stay with Kageyama, and figure out everything he had to offer.

He saw Kageyama entering back into Johzenji’s previous home again.  
Entering through the doorway, Kageyama sighed-- avoiding Hinata’s eyes.  
Which also hurt.

“So,” Kageyama started, hooking his own bag around his arm and onto his back, then snagged Hinata’s as well, “I’m pretty sure we’ll be able to travel through Karasuno territory safely. I made you a crutch of some sort, too.”

He had a long branch in his free hand, pieces were shaved off to make it smooth to grip.

Still without meeting his eyes, he quickly handed it to Hinata.

 _Speak to him.  
_ _Ask him._

Turning the branch in his hands, observing it, Hinata made up his mind.  
“Kageyama?”

He saw hesitation.

“. . . yeah?”  
“Why did you lead the herd into our territory? And why. . . why did you save me?”  
“I told you, I just took pity on you when you fell--”

“Stop lying to me!”

Clenching the crutch tightly, Hinata had already found the perfect balance with it, and stepped closer to Kageyama-- who flinched backwards.  
Hinata had hoped they wouldn’t fight just before they’d leave, but he was sick of Kageyama hiding everything from him.  
He knew there was something more to this all.

Hinata expected Kageyama to reply with another lie.

“It’s for your sake.”

He saw Kageyama swallowing, his eyes finally flickering over to meet Hinata’s.  
“If you knew everything, if you remembered everything. . . You’d just get hurt.”

“You’re already hurting me with all your lies, so you’re not really preventing anything,” Hinata retorted, feeling anger building up.  
Why was Kageyama treating Hinata like he was a treasure that should be shielded from _everything_?

“ . . . Hinata, you. . . you forgot about me. Me and. . . someone else, too.”

Now that struck Hinata out of nowhere.

In those couple of seconds that took him by surprise, Kageyama regained his composure.  
Sliding his own bag back off, he rummaged around in it.  
Took something out of it.  
He gripped it tightly in his hand, hiding it away from Hinata.

“. . . Hinata. Depending on your answer to my next question, I’m either going to give this to you, or I won’t,” Kageyama said, gesturing with his hand containing the unknown object.

Hinata’s anger had quickly dissipated, he wanted to think about what Kageyama meant, but the latter wasn’t letting him.

“Are you happy with Karasuno?”

Hinata didn’t have to think long about it.  
Karasuno was his family.

He nodded-- he wanted to do so confidently, but it felt hesitant instead.

Kageyama swallowed.  
Blinked a few times rapidly.  
Then nodded as well, slowly, in defeat.  
His lips formed a thin smile.

“Then you’ve proven my point.”  
And with that, Kageyama put the object back into his bag.

“What. . . what do you mean?”  
Back was the frustration.  
“What does that mean, Kageyama?!”

But Kageyama ignored him.

“Let’s go, Hinata. Back to Karasuno.”

And so they went.  
Hinata bit back his anger and pain and frustration, as Kageyama helped him down the treacherous stairs.  
He wanted to yell, scream at him-- but this next hour was important enough for Hinata to not do any of those things.

Kageyama had his spear in his hand, his other free arm around Hinata for extra support.  
Hinata had his makeshift crutch, which did really help him immensely.

It was late afternoon when they entered onto the main road.  
From now on, Hinata had to give Kageyama directions through the long alleyway maze.

Every wobbly step brought Hinata closer to his family, and further away from Kageyama and the answers he sought.

They were back to not saying a word to each other again, except for Hinata’s directions.  
The closer they got through the alleyways, the more overwhelming the stench of rotten, decaying bodies.  
Then they had to step over Walker bodies to get through, and Kageyama even had to lift him over the heaps at some point.

The plaza.  
Bodies strewn around as far the eye could see, to Hinata’s fear.  
He scanned around to try and see if the fence was broken down anywhere; it wasn’t.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Kageyama muttered, and Hinata wanted to punch him just for that.  
This was Kageyama’s fault, why was he acting surprised to see the carnage the herd caused?

Soon enough, it was time to part ways.  
Forever, according to Kageyama.

Kageyama had brought him close enough to the fence, when it didn’t seem like any of the Walkers were still alive.

“You remember what I said, right? If you come back to Johzenji’s place _once_ ,” Kageyama threatened, back to his glaring.

Hinata nodded absentmindedly.  
He gazed at the orphanage, and at the ground.

He would never see Kageyama again.  
He’d have to live with not knowing everything, not knowing why Kageyama really saved him, and why-- why everything.  
Kageyama was back to being a complete mystery to him, even after four days of living together.

Hinata felt pressure weighing on his leg.  
Kageyama had let go of him.

“Take care,” Kageyama mumbled, “And I’m. . . I’m sorry if. . . Karasuno has suffered any losses.”

Hinata didn’t want to say anything to Kageyama.  
Anger simmered right underneath the surface, but he controlled it.

These four days. . . in the end, they meant nothing.  
Hinata had thought, hoped, that he finally understood a bit more of the man.  
That they’d grown closer, that they had a bond of friendship.

He didn’t look at Kageyama as he heard the latter step away, turn around, and back the way they had came.  
He heard how his feet halted, again.

A faint intake of air.

“I never told you my full name, did I?” Kageyama said, not expecting an answer.  
“It’s Tobio. Kageyama Tobio.”

Then the footsteps continued, faded.

And Hinata was alone.

Alone with an overwhelming sense of familiarity after hearing that name.

Tobio.  
Kageyama Tobio.

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


“Oh no,” Kenma mumbled, and the other three shared the sentiment.

They could see it, and they could smell it.

Clouds of smoke rising up out of the forest.  
The scent of ash and burnt flora.

Kuroo hissed, “Come on, hurry!”

Fukurodani’s hideout was on fire.

Kuroo went from fast walking to sprinting, pulling Kenma with him, his strong legs closing in distance fast.  
Followed by Lev and Yaku, they soon arrived at the edge of the forest, where pavement went over into stumps and weed.

It was starting to become dark, but Kuroo knew the way very well.  
The closer they got, the stingier the smell to their nose and eyes.

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” the leader cursed, nearly losing his composure in front of his group.  
But it didn’t matter, they were all afraid.  
What happened?  
Did Shiratorizawa have a hand in this, or. . . ? 

The clearing.

The smell of burnt wood filled their nostrils.   
Looking down, the grass went from a deep green into an ashy grey, then pure black.

All four of them stood in shock at the sight.  
Only one of the treehouses was still untouched, the other three were burnt to the ground.  
The trees were blackened, strings of smoke rising up from certain spots, the remains of the treehouses themselves completely enveloped in the dark smoke.

There was, in fact, no fire.  
It seemed like it had been extinguished a while ago, now just the aftermath slowly smoking.

On a tree stump in the middle of the clearing, sat a man with his hands covering his face, facing down.  
He was surrounded by three others of his group, all exuding the same feeling of utter despair, unmoving.

“Oh my god,” Kuroo mumbled, before stepping out of the shadows and briskly making his way over to the small group.  
“Bokuto!”

The man with spiky, white-grey hair looked up, his expression distorting the moment he saw Nekoma’s leader, his friend.

Jumping up, while the others only turned their heads to see, Bokuto met Kuroo halfway, the two hugging tightly.  
Bokuto’s face was streaked with tears, his eyes bloodshot and skin dirty.

The faces of the other survivors weren’t much better.  
Slumped over, defeated.

“Shit, man, what the fuck happened?” Kuroo asked, as Bokuto broke away.  
He looked absolutely miserable, a state Kuroo hadn’t ever seen him in before.

Bokuto just shook his head, beckoning them to follow him to the others of Fukurodani.

Konoha Akinori.  
Shirofuku Yukie.  
Suzumeda Kaori.

Four of Fukurodani, joined by four of Nekoma.

“Bokuto, what happened here?” Kuroo asked again, slowly taking in the sight, still.

“Shiratorizawa,” Bokuto uttered, biting his lip.  
“And they took him.”

“. . . him?” Yaku mumbled, though he could guess who.

“Akaashi,” the man sniffed, wiping away new tears welling up.  
“They took Akaashi with them.”

That stung.  
Yaku always found Akaashi to be good companionship, they were friends.

Kuroo sighed a frustrated sigh.  
“Goddamnit. What the actual fuck is that demonic group doing?!”

Shiratorizawa had made their intentions clear.  
They were trying to get rid of the groups, or at least, render them helpless.

“How’d they set this place ablaze?” Kenma asked.  
Despite living in treehouses, Fukurodani’s defense was tight.  
They always had a guard in the trees, watching over the forest and catching any intruders before they could even utter a word.

Besides, they were located in a clearing, no human could sneak up to any of the treehouses without being seen.

“Do you want to know what those fuckers did?” Konoha hissed, finally speaking up, “They set a fucking herd of Walkers on fire.”

Yaku’s eyebrows raised at the exact same time, surprised.  
“. . . what. . . the actual fuck,” was the only thing he could say.

It was a valid tactic, now that he thought about it.  
Nobody ever set a Walker on fire because they would burn for a very long time before dying, but Shiratorizawa turned that disadvantage into an advantage.  
They hadn’t wanted the Walkers to die.  
They wanted them to burn long enough to burn through Fukurodani’s defenses, setting the field and the trees on fire.

“Sarukui and Komi died. Sarukui got caught by the fire in one of the treehouses, Komi was cornered by the herd. And then when Akaashi went out to check if it was safe enough yet. . . he didn’t come back.”

“Shiratorizawa is really pushing their luck,” Kuroo grumbled, “In fact, their luck will run out soon. Bokuto. . . as you can clearly see. . .”  
He gestured towards Lev, Kenma and Yaku.

“They fucked us over too.”

“Fuck, I hoped you just. . . I don’t know. . . had some of Nekoma keep guard in the yacht,” Yukie whispered, closing her eyes.

“Nope, we’re the only four left. They killed Teshiro, Kai and Taketora, and almost Lev,” Kuroo mumbled, as all eyes turned to Lev, eyeing his scar.  
“Inuoka jumped four days ago.”

Konoha visibly tensed, covering his face.  
Kaori gasped, biting her lip.

Fukurodani and Nekoma have always been close, everyone knew everyone.

Kuroo continued.  
“I think that Shiratorizawa is trying to wipe every group out.”

Bokuto nodded, “Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised. I just don’t understand why. . . why they took. . .”

It was clear the man was heartbroken by the loss of Akaashi, naturally.  
Everyone was, but Bokuto suffered the most.

“We’ll get him back,” Kuroo confidently stated.  
Seeing his best friend like this, he was absolutely done with Shiratorizawa.  
They crossed the line long ago.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Kenma mumbled, but Kuroo shushed him.

“We will get him back,” the black-haired man repeated.  
“At least, we will try our goddamn hardest.”

Bokuto’s eyes sparked with a faint hope.  
“. . . really? You’ll help us?”

“Of course we will,” Yaku nodded, crossing his arms.  
“We’re allies.”

Kuroo swore Bokuto teared up at those words.  
“And besides, Shiratorizawa has hurt us too. We’re going to cross them for the first time in our history.”

“But. . . we’re only with eight people combined,” Konoha uttered.

Not enough to infiltrate the Tokyo Detention Centre and save Akaashi, let alone get out alive again.

“Aobajohsai will never help us out, even if they hate Shiratorizawa,” Kuroo grumbled, frowning.  
“. . . there’s only one option.”

“Are you sure?” Kenma asked, squinting his eyes.  
“. . . they haven’t forgotten what you did.”

“Tch, I know.”  
Sighing, Kuroo had to decide.  
But he wasn’t alone in this one.  
“What do you think, Bokuto?”

“We can’t do anything against Shiratorizawa like this,” Bokuto concluded, “And at this point, I think it’s not too far a stretch to think they might’ve already attacked Karasuno in some way too.”

Yaku and Yukie nodded in unison.

“Well, we already said ‘Fuck it’ when we went on this trek to you guys,” Kuroo mumbled, “So why not say it again?”

“It’s not like Bokuto can properly function for very long without Akaashi, so we kind of need to,” Konoha added, with a slightly joking undertone.

It helped ease the tension a bit.  
Everyone could take a deep breath.  
The arrival of Nekoma reassuring the members of Fukurodani and vice versa.

They weren’t alone anymore, despite the losses they felt.

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


Suga heard a lot of noise coming from the hallway.  
Tumultuous stomping and multiple voices.

Sipping from his cup with water, he kept his gaze at the door.

Soon enough said door slammed open, and Kiyoko held it open for the next few people to come through.

Suga’s eyes widened.  
He nearly let go of the cup as he stood up, quickly putting it down on the table instead.

Daichi, with his arm around Hinata to keep him standing.

The ginger looked exhausted, parts of his clothing was torn and drenched in old blood, his skin grimy.  
He breathed rapidly, his eyes confused and dazed.

“Careful, Suga,” Kiyoko mumbled, as she beckoned Daichi to have Hinata seated on the couch in front of the hearth.  
“His leg is injured.”

Suga was overwhelmed with joy and relief, those emotions a welcome change from the gloomy restlessness he felt after losing their leader.  
He felt tears welling up, the dams nearly breaking after seeing Hinata was mostly okay, after four days of uncertainty.

Daichi carefully placed Hinata on the couch, laying his head to rest on a pillow, and Kiyoko took a seat next to him with her medkit on her lap.

Hinata’s eyes darted between the three in the room, slowly calming down when he realised where he was.  
He coughed.

Kiyoko stripped him of his pants, while Suga fondly caressed his fingers through Hinata’s hair, reassuring him.  
She gently peeled the old, worn and bloody bandages off around his thigh; they’d question later how Hinata got those bandages in the first place.

The skin was grey and flakes of dried up blood fluttered down.  
Yet Kiyoko was pleasantly surprised.  
She’d seen the handiwork of the bandage wrapping, so she imagined Hinata didn’t wrap it himself-- but the gash was clean, too.

A quick inspection showed almost no dirt or stray rocks in the wound, nor was it infected.  
She saw it had already started healing at the very bottom, the skin of one side slowly reattaching itself to the other half with new skin.

Wetting a cloth, she wiped away a bit of the last remaining blood, before nodding, satisfied.

“It looks well taken care of. . . doesn’t it?” Dachi questioned, peering over her shoulder, and Kiyoko nodded again.

“. . . Hinata didn’t do this himself,” Kiyoko concluded.  
“Someone must’ve helped him. . .”

“Hinata?” Suga cooed, and the addressed opened his eyes, clarity back and no trace of confusion left.  
He blinked a few times.  
“Can you tell us what happened?”

Hinata nodded, as Kiyoko reapplied a fresh, new layer of bandaging to his thigh.  
She then handed him a bottle with clean water, which he greedily drank from.

Daichi sat down on one of the chairs, while Suga seated himself next to Hinata, carefully placing the ginger’s head, with pillow and all, in his lap, continuing to pet his hair.

Just as Hinata opened his mouth, the door opened again, and the remaining three inhabitants entered, after hearing the noise.

“Number One Shortie is back!” Tanaka cried out, nearly toppling over the couch to pull Hinata into a firm hug.  
He got stopped by Suga’s fist in his stomach.

“Oh, so you weren’t ditched after all.”  
Tsukishima sighed sadly, his eyes flickering over to Hinata once, before flopping down onto the second couch, quickly followed by Yamaguchi, who seemed a lot happier knowing that Hinata was back. 

“He was just going to tell us everything that happened, so shush,” Daichi told them, a light frown forming on his face.

Ignoring Tsukishima’s comment, Hinata nodded.  
Should he just tell them everything, or. . . ?  
“So. . . I got cut off before reaching the Steel Bird.”

“‘Steel Bird’?” Tsukishima frowned.  
Suga and Daichi hadn’t had time to tell the rest of Karasuno about their expedition, due to obvious reasons.

“Which meant I had to take a detour. That detour lead me to Johzenji’s old hideout on the border of Aobajohsai. But _apparently_ , there was some random ass crater in the middle of the street, and I fell down.”

Tanaka snorted, but was shut up with one stern glare from Daichi.

“Yeah, that crater. . . I remember when that happened,” Suga nodded, “The crater is Johzenji’s own doing, by the way. They, uhm. . . really liked doing whatever they wanted, and one day, that included exploding a home-made bomb in front of their hideout.”

Tsukishima’s face scrunched up in obvious distaste, but he didn’t say anything.

“Oh,” Hinata mumbled, mentally cursing Johzenji and everything they ever accomplished, “Well, I cut open my thigh when rolling down the slope. Soon enough Walkers from the herd rolled down after me.”

“So you were trapped?” Yamaguchi gasped, completely taken in by the story.

HInata nodded excitedly, a new gleam in his eyes as he recalled the first day, and his meeting with Kageyama.  
“I then crawled all the way to the other side of the crater cause I couldn’t stand up, and I had to kick Walkers away from me. Then! An arrow into the Walker’s head! And another one!”

Suga unconsciously started thinking of who could have saved Hinata.  
Someone from Aobajohsai would make sense, but they wouldn’t be near Karasuno’s border after unleashing a herd right after.

Hinata paused.  
Now he had to decide.  
Was he going to mention Kageyama?

Might as well.  
Maybe someone from Karasuno knew more about him--

And then Hinata remembered.

 _“. . . I know,” Kageyama muttered, looking away.  
_ _“Some of your group might recognize me, too. The older ones. . . they’ll know.”_

“Daichi, Suga?”  
Hinata wondered where Asahi, Noya and Ukai were, but he’d ask later.  
“Do you. . . know anyone with the name. . .”  
He swallowed.

“. . . Kageyama Tobio?”

Even saying his name out loud made Hinata feel the same familiarity he felt before.

Suga raised his eyebrows, surprised.  
“Kageyama. . . Tobio? Hm. . .”

He squinted his eyes.  
The name itself was unknown to him, but he had an idea.  
And if his idea turned out to be right, he’d have a whole lot of explaining to do.  
The explaining he would leave to Daichi, of course.

“How did he look like?”  
It seemed like Daichi was onto the same idea as Suga.

“Short, black hair and he was tall. . . and blue eyes,” Hinata said.  
“He always glared at me, too.”

Suga met Daichi’s eyes.  
They both knew.

“So that boy survived after all,” Daichi sighed, a hint of amazement in his voice.  
“That’s. . . wow.”

“Wow indeed,” Suga agreed.

Only Kiyoko seemed to know what they were talking about, while Hinata looked between the two of them suspiciously-- yet excitedly.  
Did they really know Kageyama after all?

Daichi coughed, moving around in his chair a bit.  
“So he saved you?”

Hinata nodded, his body tense, in anticipation.

“And you didn’t. . . remember him?”

Kageyama had mentioned. . . he’d mentioned Hinata forgot him, and someone else, too.

Hinata shook his head.  
“. . . Did I know him?”

Now even Tsukishima seemed interested in the conversation.

“Okay, ehm. . .”  
Daichi helplessly looked at Suga.

Guess Suga would have to take on explaining after all.  
“Right, Hinata, listen closely. Back then, when you were still a child and we found you. . . you weren’t alone.”

Hinata’s eyes widened, trembling involuntarily.  
The more Suga talked, the more Hinata started to remember.  
He remembered.  
Kageyama hadn’t lied about that.

_Hinata used to know Kageyama._

“There was another child with you, perfectly fitting your description-- except the ‘tall’ part, of course-- but he was wounded.”

A headache tore through his head.  
Memories flooded in.

A camp.  
Fire.  
Screaming.  
The same blue eyes.  
Kageyama taking his hand.  
Light brown eyes.  
A blonde girl.  
_Hitoka--_

A forest.  
They were alone.

Then he couldn’t breathe, water filling his lungs.  
Blacking out.  
Kageyama yelling at him.

A green snake.  
Dead.

The skyscrapers of Tokyo, seen for the first time.  
Safe.  
But they weren’t.  
Walkers.

Running.  
Panic.  
A restaurant building.  
Hitoka was safe.

Running, again.  
A house.  
Safe.

Everything shook.  
The house they were in, the floor, the ceiling--

Darkness.  
Crying.  
Something heavy.  
The walls had collapsed in on them.  
Buried.

Kageyama’s crying, yelling--  
Blood.  
Begging.

Sawamura Daichi.  
Light.  
A warm hand.

Hinata opened his eyes.  
Sobbing, tears were rolling down his face, through the blurriness he vaguely saw Suga and Kiyoko leaning over him.

He was being hugged tightly by Suga, who gently rocked him back and forth.

God, Hinata remembered it all.  
Why had he forgotten about it?  
Had his mind pushed these memories away on purpose?  
Kageyama Tobio, Yachi Hitoka, Michimiya Yui--

He remembered the heaviness of being buried underneath the collapsed wall, the darkness.

Why didn’t Kageyama tell him?  
Hinata didn’t _understand_.

Fuck.  
Hinata’s life wasn’t supposed to be this complicated.  
He loved Karasuno.  
Hunt, scavenge, watching out for Walkers. laughing together in front of the hearth.  
That was all it’s ever been, yet he always felt like something was missing.  
And now he finally knew.

“Suga, why-- why didn’t he tell me?”   
Hinata rubbed his eyes, his breathing hitched and uneven.  
His body shocked every now and then, as Suga brushed through Hinata’s hair.

“I don’t know,” Suga answered, “I don’t know. . . maybe he just. . . He realised you didn’t remember him, and perhaps. . . decided that it was better that way.”

Hinata buried his face into Suga’s chest, closing his eyes.  
The headache started to subside, slowly.  
He’d been so clueless all this time.  
So stupid, even.  
Kageyama had placed enough hints for Hinata to figure it out if he wanted to.

Kageyama had asked. . . if Hinata was happy with Karasuno.  
Whatever the object was he had in his hands would have probably reminded Hinata of his past.  
He was prepared to have Hinata remember everything if he wasn’t happy with Karasuno.  
Hinata remembered the expression Kageyama wore when Hinata nodded yes to his question.

Sadness.  
Finality.

But because Hinata nodded, Kageyama. . . decided that he wouldn’t create a potential tear between Hinata and his family, Karasuno, by having him remember.

Hinata had known Kageyama all this time.

The boy that glared at him when he burnt his hand once, but then proceeded to bandage it up for him anyway.  
The boy that begrudgingly taught him how to use a bow and arrow.  
The boy that raced him around the camp anytime Hinata issued a challenge.  
The boy that safely lead him and Yachi through the forest and past the river to Tokyo, to find Ukai Keishin and Sawamura Daichi.  
The boy who protected him when the house they hid in collapsed.

The boy who, all this time, only wanted the best for Hinata, even if he didn’t show it.

“ _Fuck_ , I hate him,” Hinata whispered, “That stupid asshole. . . why did he have to make it so complicated?!”

Hinata didn’t know whether he wanted to cry or laugh.

He didn’t care that everyone was staring at him when he wiped his tears away, biting his lip.  
Nobody said a thing as Hinata continued his story from before.  
About the purple berries he liked so much.  
The coldness that almost ended both their lives.  
And how Kageyama had taken care of him.

“So he saved you because he knew who you were,” Tsukishima mumbled, squinting his eyes, “How damn lucky for you that he, _on the other hand_ , did remember about your shared past.”

Hinata glared at the blonde, “I couldn’t help it! It’s not my fault that my memories never resurfaced!”

“It’s just another testament to how dumb you really are,” Tsukishima sneered.  
“This is what you deserve.”

“This is not--! No!” Hinata shrieked; it wasn’t his fault, right?  
“Shut up!”

“Careful with your leg,” Suga shushed, “Just ignore Tsukishima.”

“A-anyway, where are Noya, Asahi and Ukai?” Hinata asked, huffing, steering the conversation in another direction.

The room fell silent again.

Daichi took it upon himself to bring Hinata the news.  
“Hinata, you’ve. . . You’ve seen how it is outside the orphanage. The herd attacked us, and. . . in the end, Ukai was bitten.”

He swallowed.  
“Asahi and Noya. . . we have no idea. They hadn’t returned from hunting yet, and their location is still unknown.”

Hinata’s heart froze over.  
There were no tears left.  
He just stared into the fire, not saying a word.

His leader died because of the herd.  
And because of Kageyama.

“This is all Oikawa’s fault, that snake,” Daichi grumbled, leaning back in his chair.  
“He’ll pay for what he did.”

What?

“What?”  
Dazed-- confused-- Hinata shook his head.  
“What did Oikawa do?”

“Oikawa lead that herd into our territory,” Suga sighed softly, not noticing Hinata’s confusion.  
“He probably didn’t think anyone would see him. . . well, jokes on him. Daichi and I did, clear as day.”

“Wait, no, but--” Hinata trailed.  
“Kageyama said. . . ?”

“He said what?”

“H-he told me that he-- that he lead the herd here!”

Raising an eyebrow, surprised, Suga slowly shook his head.  
“Me and Daichi both saw Oikawa. Perhaps Kageyama was around hiding somewhere, but it was clearly Oikawa who pulled the trigger,” Suga stated.

“No,” Hinata said.  
He didn’t want to accept this new information.

“Look, I don’t know why Kageyama said that, but we saw how Oikawa stood in front of the herd, and shot the last bullet to give the herd the heads up towards our border,” Daichi added.

Impossible.  
Hinata rubbed his temple, sighing.  
Daichi and Suga wouldn’t lie about something like this.

It took him a few moments, but Hinata made up his mind.  
When his injury was healed, he was going to visit Kageyama, whether the latter liked it or not.  
He’d tell him that he remembered everything, and ask him if he knew what had happened to Yachi, and if they could visit their old camp one day.  
He’d tell him. . .

Hinata was tired of all this new information.  
He couldn’t process this all right now.

“I’m going to sleep,” he muttered, wriggling out of Suga’s arms and grabbing his crutch from the ground.  
He heaved himself up, and started hobbling towards the door, ignoring the looks of worry everyone-- except Tsukishima-- gave him.

Getting up the stairs was a pain, and he nearly fell down, but Hinata managed.  
He breathed in the familiar scent of his own room, closing the door behind him.

Carefully lifting himself up onto the bed, he discarded himself of his clothes.  
Finally back with Karasuno, his friends and family.  
His own room, his own bed.

He fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, with Kageyama and his past fresh on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Low blow, Tsukki, low blow.
> 
> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	11. Forgotten Streets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got out of hand.  
> As in, 3k-words-more-than-average-out of hand.
> 
> I have also lost all control over SemiShira.

Stepping out through the door, Iwaizumi shivered at the cool air.  
He pressed the shawl closer up to this nose, his gaze wandering across the field.  
A very thin layer of snow covered the grass and the top of the appletree, but it would melt before tomorrow again.

He followed the footprints leading up to the appletree, stepping into the prints with his own.  
Underneath the tree it was dry, and he saw Oikawa resting against the trunk.

Severely underdressed.

Coming up from behind, he unhooked his own shawl and gently wrapped it around Oikawa’s neck instead.  
He felt him tense for a split second, before relaxing against Iwaizumi.

“I thought you were supposed to stay inside?” Iwaizumi hummed, pressing up against the slightly taller man.

“Staying inside is boring,” came Oikawa’s reply, “Makki’s being unreasonable.”

“You still had a cold yesterday night, Hanamaki is just looking out for you,” Iwaizumi pointed out, sighing fondly.  
“ _Shittykawa_ , you’re not helping yourself.”

Oikawa has always been stubborn.  
Today was no different.

Slipping his hand into Oikawa’s, he lightly pulled him away from the tree.  
He saw a reluctant smile spreading across his lips, giving in to Iwaizumi.

“Hajime,” he whined, “I want to go out. I want to do something again.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Iwaizumi gruffly replied, pulling them closer together.  
“Be more specific.”

Oikawa’s slender finger trailed up Iwaizumi’s face, pressing into his cheeks with a soft laugh.  
“Oh? And what do you suggest I do, then?”

“I suggest,” he started, “You come back inside with me, where it’s warm and cozy. Then, we can just relax together. Tomorrow, we can go outside and do something like hunting again."

Oikawa hummed, “Fine. Just because you asked so nicely.”

With a huff, he started walking towards the mansion, pulling Iwaizumi along.  
Iwaizumi was really relieved though, to see that Oikawa seemed to be completely fine.  
He felt the same as he did; he hadn’t been out doing anything useful either, and he’d love to feel the rush of running through the streets of Tokyo again.

Back inside the mansion, Hanamaki nodded at the two in acknowledgment, secretly glad Iwaizumi managed to convince Oikawa to come back inside.  
Kindaichi cowered slightly under Oikawa’s judging gaze, pushing himself back into the corner of the couch against Kunimi.

Shaking off the extra layer of clothing, Iwaizumi took Oikawa with him towards the stairs.  
The two had been joined at the hip ever since years of feelings resurfaced in all its sappy glory, half a day ago.  
Love.  
Such a wondrous, complicated feeling.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa mumbled, stumbling up the stairs after the addressed, “Do you think. . . Karasuno knows? That I directed that herd into their territory?”

“Perhaps. We don’t have to expect any kind gestures from them, that’s for sure,” Iwaizumi replied.  
“Nobody of Aobajohsai doubts the decision to steer the herd away, as long as you know that. You did it to protect us. We would’ve been overrun if you hadn’t done that.”

“Right,” Oikawa nodded, a little bit doubtful, still.  
“. . . I had no other choice.”

Pushing open the door to his bedroom, they both entered, and Iwaizumi saw Oikawa swiftly locked the door behind them.

“In this world, it’s either you survive or you die. There’s no ‘living’. We can’t afford to always play nice,” Iwaizumi mumbled, taking both of Oikawa’s hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over his knuckles.  
“You know that.”

Swallowing, Oikawa nodded.  
“I know. I do know. . .”

Iwaizumi placed his hands on either side of Oikawa, resting on his thin waist.  
He saw the familiar little pout appearing on his face, as Oikawa moved his hands to rest on Iwaizumi’s chest.

“I’m getting really sick and tired of Shiratorizawa, Tooru,” he whispered, “. . . I just feel like. . . it’s going to get worse. It feels like we’re being preyed on.”

Now that they were in their own space, away from the rest of Aobajohsai, it was easier to let their guards down.

Oikawa placed his warm forehead against Iwaizumi’s.  
“I think so too. . . We might end up like Date Tech, Nohebi or Inarizaki, next. Or perhaps we’ll flee Tokyo before that happens, like Johzenji.”

“Would you want to flee with Aobajohsai, if it came down to it?”

“Yes,” Oikawa nodded with no hesitation, “As much as I would love to slit Ushiwaka’s throat, I’d much rather have you and everyone else alive.”

A low chuckle rose from Iwaizumi’s chest.  
“Really? Huh. . . I kind of expected you’d want to stay till the bitter end.”

“I’ve learned my lesson,” Oikawa said, “I’m not. . . I’m not going to drown in hatred. Not if lives are on the line. If your life's on the line.”

He paused.

“. . . You have to help me with that. I don’t want to go down a lonely path without Aobajohsai. Without my team.”

“In the past you weren’t like this. You’ve changed,” Iwaizumi concluded.  
“In a good way.”

“Thank god,” Oikawa laughed, sliding his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck.  
“Promise you won’t let me revert back into my past self.”

Oikawa really had changed.  
Iwaizumi suspected it had to do with him realising how quickly Kageyama had turned out to be a natural talent to surviving in this world.  
He slowly realised that there’s more to life than wrath.  
Add to that Oikawa’s run-in with Ushijima, when he was asked if he wouldn’t rather join Shiratorizawa instead.

Oikawa and his worthless pride.

“I promise,” Iwaizumi earnestly replied.

With a satisfied smile, Oikawa leaned forward and pressed his lips against Iwaizumi’s, lightly.  
Wrapping his arms around Oikawa’s waist, he pushed back, inviting him to continue.

Neither had any experience in anything, really.  
But they knew how to show affection.  
It was a part of human nature.

It felt nice.  
Oikawa’s warmth, his body, against Iwaizumi’s.  
They shared an intimate connection they didn’t share with anyone else.

Iwaizumi just wished he’d realised it all sooner.  
He suspected Oikawa had been waiting for Iwaizumi to figure it out on his own, only to finally give him the last hint only hours ago.

Being able to touch Oikawa, to feel and confirm that they were both still human.  
They lived.  
Hearing his beating heart, or his spoiled, all-knowing laugh.  
Iwaizumi wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.

They soon found their way onto Iwaizumi’s bed, completely drawn into each other.  
Feathery touches, exchanging kisses; first just sweet, innocent and with their hands interlaced.  
Sliding his hand along Oikawa’s thigh, their lips synchronized.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa worked, lived, _thrived_ on the same wavelength, always.  
Even if Oikawa sometimes got out of hand, Iwaizumi easily eased him back into the natural flow.

Iwaizumi’s thumb slotted right behind Oikawa’s ear, his fingers buried into his silky, soft hair.  
How Oikawa kept his hair as healthy as it was, was a mystery for Iwaizumi to discover another day.

He longed for Oikawa.  
He was starved for touch.  
For affection.  
Without even realising it.

By now he couldn’t keep track anymore of which hands were whose, which pair of lips were his.  
It really did feel natural.  
It could only be Tooru, for him.

Iwaizumi cracked open his eye halfway, peeking through his eyelashes at the man in front of him, so close, inches away.  
It wasn’t new, being this close to Tooru.  
Yet this was different.

Warm breaths, soft inhales.  
Their noses nearly bumping, so many times, yet it never actually happens.

When had he opened his mouth?

He decided to focus on the soft noises Oikawa made every now and then.  
Sometimes when Iwaizumi moved his hands, or when he rubbed the space just behind the man’s ear, or when he forced his tongue against Oikawa’s.

Slick movements, sending waves of pleasure and satisfaction through his entire body.  
They worked like a clockwork, neither went too fast, or too slow.

His lips started to feel sore, stingy, coated in saliva.  
Whose, he had no idea.  
Nor did he know how much time had passed; he felt like hours had passed.

Nor did any of it matter.

Disconnecting from the soft lips belonging to Oikawa, a string of saliva connected them for a moment, before dissipating.  
Thick eyelashes fluttered open, feverish, chocolate eyes gazed into his own.

Cheeks colored a shade of red, trembling fingers reached for Iwaizumi’s.  
Forehead resting against forehead, soft breathing intermingling.

Iwaizumi had expected it was going to be an experience the moment they touched, but pure bliss was not something he thought he’d get to feel.  
A bliss different from any other.

Oikawa brought Iwaizumi’s hand up to his own, slightly swollen lips, and pressed a kiss on top of his knuckles, a fond smile adorning his face.  
“I love you.”

Now it was Iwaizumi’s turn to heat up.  
He felt it.  
He felt his cheeks burning a pleasant warmth, his stomach pooling with the same heat.

“. . . ‘s not fair,” he sputtered, earning him a fulfilled laugh.  
Placing himself right up against Iwaizumi’s chest, arms draped around his shoulders, Oikawa smiled coyly.

With a sigh leaking of satisfaction, Iwaizumi wormed his own arm around the other’s body, locking him in place.

Tilting his head, he rested his on top of Oikawa’s, strands of hair tickling his skin.

“I’m pretty sure I blacked out halfway,” he muttered, and heard Oikawa gasp.

“Hajime! How could you! I, for one, love kissing you, but maybe you didn’t--”  
“Hey, I never said that.”

Iwaizumi lightly dug his nails into Oikawa’s shoulder, a weak attempt at berating him.  
It was an attempt.

“It felt perfect.”  
“What did?”  
“You.”  
“ _Hajime!_ ”

Tooru laughed, elated, “You cheesy flirt. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Grumbling, Iwaizumi buried his nose into his partner’s fluffy hair, only causing him to laugh louder.  
Oikawa swung his legs over Iwaizumi’s thighs, holding onto him.  
Facing each other, Iwaizumi’s saw the quick hint of fear flash across the other’s eyes, and he knew exactly what it was.

The realisation of the cruel world around them.

“You know,” Iwaizumi started, his hands planted firmly on Oikawa’s hips, “Whoever tries to fuck with us, will end up with a knife in the back of their head. Whether that be Shiratorizawa, Karasuno or Walkers.”

Oikawa swallowed, his Adam’s apple slowly rising and falling.  
“Really? What if something happens to you, Hajime? What am I going to do then?”

“You and I aren’t going to let it come down to that. We’re Aobajohsai. We have Matsukawa, Hanamaki, Kindaichi, Kunimi, Yahaba and Kyoutani to protect, too. We can’t afford to lose.”

“. . . You’re right. We can’t afford to lose.”

Iwaizumi nodded, closing his eyes.

“Rule the court, Tooru.”

“What does that mean?”

Iwaizumi chuckled, shaking his head, shrugging.  
“I have no idea. I just felt like saying it.”

“Whatever it means, we’ll do that,” Oikawa concluded.

“We will rule the court.”

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


The trek back to Johzenji’s hideout was a grueling one.  
Kageyama was aware of the pissed off expression he wore, but could he care any less?  
No, no he couldn’t.

Stepping out of the alleyway maze-- only taking a wrong turn twice-- he breathed in the fresh air, away from the slaughtered herd.  
His fingers were twitching.  
His hands felt empty.

He really had spun himself an ugly web of lies, and now he trapped himself within.  
But amidst it all, he felt relieved.  
Hinata didn’t remember him, or Yachi.  
Not even Kitagawa Daiichi, their old group, with Michimiya and Aihara.

If Hinata didn’t remember, Kageyama much rather preferred to not associate himself with the ginger.  
It would only hurt for him.  
Besides, it was no use trying to scratch open old scars.  
Kageyama accepted that.

Living with Hinata hadn’t proven to be too difficult-- he had quickly completely forgotten about the fact Hinata saw Kageyama as a stranger, and managed to believe for those few days, that nothing had changed.  
That they were still the same children as those many years ago.

Then the day came that he had to bring Hinata back to Karasuno, the people he now trusted, and everything came crashing down.

Kageyama had allowed himself to choose the easy route; put on a stone cold facade, and hurt Hinata.  
Hurt him with his words, so that Hinata didn’t even want to meet Kageyama again.  
Even if that meant lying.

Ah, but he needed a break.

A break from Tokyo.

He grabbed only a few necessary items, stuffing it in his bag.  
His eye fell onto the compass.  
Taking it, he rubbed across the smooth, cold surface.  
Had Hinata answered no, he didn’t like being with Karasuno, Kageyama would’ve given him the compass.  
Michimiya’s signature compass.

For a moment, he flashed back to the old camp.  
The smothering heat of fire and ashes in the cold night, screaming for help, in pain, panic.  
When Michimiya took him aside, and gave him her compass.

Clenching the small object tightly in his hand, he sighed.

Then, slung the bag over his shoulder and left Johzenji’s hideout.

A change of scenery would do him good after hiding the rollercoaster of emotions he went through from Hinata, for four days straight.

Kageyama avoided the few stray Walkers as he went straight to the outer ring of Tokyo.  
He wasn’t worried about running into Karasuno; they’d be all over Hinata by now, and not out patrolling.  
Crossing through, he noticed the herd had left quite the carnage in its wake.  
More broken windows, bent poles, flattened asphalt.

It is better this way.

As long as Kageyama believed that, he would be okay.

Though the compass was old, it still worked perfectly fine.  
And for his next destination, he’d need it.

Northeast.

Visiting an old friend.

Kageyama didn’t know the exact location, even after all these years.  
He’d have to depend on the compass, and his friend’s detection of Kageyama’s arrival.

Licking his lips, he stepped from the asphalt onto the lush grash.  
A soft, cool breeze brushed through his dark hair, and he felt himself calm down.

He wished it could be easier.

Twittering, singing birds hidden from Kageyama’s eyes sung him a song, uncaring for the chaos and sorrow of the world.  
In the distance, between the trees, a deer turned its head to look at the intruder of her forest.  
Kageyama made no effort to kill it; he didn’t need to, he didn’t have to, so he wouldn’t.

Her fluffy tail waggled.  
Her dark eyes carefully watched the young man.  
Then she jumped away, further into the forest.

A thin, ghost of a smile formed on his lips.  
A quick glance to his compass.

He steered slightly to the left.

If Hinata decided to tell Karasuno about Kageyama’s involvement with the herd, it’d be better to hide away for a while, anyway.  
He wasn’t even sure if he should continue to use Johzenji’s hideout as his own.  
Hinata knew where it was located.

But he didn’t need to think about that, yet.

“Kageyama?”  
A shy voice called out.

Kageyama turned to look in the direction her voice came from, and saw her jumping from a branch down to the ground.  
Spreading his arms wide, she tightly hugged him, giggling softly.

“It’s been a bit since you last visited! Did something happen in the city?’  
She broke away, and Kageyama nodded.

“Yeah. Shiratorizawa let loose a gigantic herd into Aobajohsai’s territory, and that crazy bastard Oikawa decided to divert it into Karasuno’s instead.”

Yachi started walking, and Kageyama followed her, walking side by side.  
“Aobajohsai would’ve been flattened if he hadn’t.”

“Oh, I see,” she frowned slightly, “Shiratorizawa has been getting more and more aggressive lately. They burnt down Fukurodani, too.”

Kageyama nearly choked on air.  
“What?! . . . Then I won’t be surprised if Nekoma’s suffered by now as well. What the hell. . .”

Yachi sighed softly, her dirty blonde hair swaying in the wind.  
It had grown a lot since Kageyama last saw her, it reached her shoulders now.

“Fantastic,” Kageyama grumbled, “. . . Anyway, Oikawa was losing it, so I decided for Iwaizumi’s sake, I’d assist him.”

“You really have a soft spot for Iwaizumi, still,” she giggled, hiding her laugh with a hand covering her mouth.

“W-well--! Yeah, duh! He was the only one who was ever nice to me!”  
“I know, I know! How’d it go?”  
“Oh-- As well as it could’ve gone, I guess. We both survived, but, Hitoka. . .”

She turned to look at him, questioning.

“. . . I met Hinata,” he mumbled softly.  
Yachi gasped, her eyes widened.

“Wait, really? You’re not-- you’re not joking, right?”

“When do I ever joke, Hitoka!” he barked, “Come on now! That dumbass is part of Karasuno, and got caught up in that herd!”

“Oh my god!” she shrieked, getting caught up in Kageyama’s own heated replies, “What did you do then?!”

“Fuckin’ saved his stupid ass, of course!”

The two slipped back easily into their usual way of conversation, like old comrades, old friends.  
Which they were.  
Yachi always got hooked on Kageyama’s pace easily, joining his excitement.  
Even if they hadn’t seen each other in a while, it didn’t matter.

Kageyama continued.  
“He injured himself too, so for the past four, five days I’ve been taking care of him. Just two hours ago, I brought him back to Karasuno’s hideout.”

“Wow,” she breathed, “Did he. . . ?”

“No.”  
Disappointment.  
“He didn’t remember anything. Not me, not you, not Kitagawa Daiichi.”

Kageyama saw Yachi’s eyes flash over with sadness, too.  
“. . . I see. Well. . . we anticipated that, didn’t we. . .”

“Yeah. I just didn't. . . I hoped he still remembered.”

A fake, empty laugh escaped Kageyama’s throat.  
“I asked him, you know. If he was happy with Karasuno. And he was. So I didn’t. . . I chose to not say anything.”

Yachi’s warm hand rested on Kageyama’s bicep, her eyes glazed over.

“Perhaps it’s for the best.”  
“You don’t think it is.”  
“. . . I don’t know. . . “  
“Hitoka. Should I have triggered his memories?”  
“. . . No.΅  
“. . . Okay.”

Stopping in front of the old, large tree, she gestured to let Kageyama go first.  
The tree had to be really old.  
Thick stumps covered in moss and large patches of bark, its branches reached far into the sky, a thick packet of leaves obscuring their vision.

Launching off of such a stump, Kageyama reached out and grabbed a thick branch closest to him, and heaved himself up.  
Small pieces of bark stuck to his clothing, the effort of pulling up his entire body weight already kicking in his muscles.

From there on out, it was just a careful jump from branch to branch, climbing higher and higher, through the first layer of leaves.  
He felt sweat running down his back as Kageyama finally pulled himself up one last time, onto the plateau in the very middle of the tree.

A flattened out living space, the width of the tree trunk itself.  
From there branches spread outward again, but they’d reached the highest point.  
A bed made up of a few blankets, pans and pots with berries and herbs, a better hiding place wasn’t found anywhere.  
Pieces of colored glass were lined up, Yachi’s collection.

The first leaf layer perfectly covered up the fact that there was an entire half of a tree left above, nobody standing on the ground would suspect it to be a valid place to live in.  
Surrounded on all sides by thick packets of leaves, the next layer serving as a tight ceiling preventing rain from entering into the space.

Dusting his clothes off, a few stray leaves fluttering down, Kageyama took a deep breath.  
It smelled like grass and, naturally, leaves, but there was a hint of sweetness and spice, also.

A few moments later, Yachi stuck her head through the leaf layer, and scrambled after Kageyama into her humble abode.  
There was enough room for two people to stay and live, and they could move around freely.

She skipped towards him and pulled a leaf out of his hair.

“Make yourself at home, I’ll prepare some herb water.”  
Yachi’s specialty.  
Her herb water.

She’d discovered it long ago.  
Boiling water, then adding a few herbs to boil with it.  
At first, she only added herbs that she knew already tasted good just as they were, before she decided that maybe, they could add a flavor to the water too.

And so came to be herb water.  
Kageyama loved it, every time again and again.  
He wasn’t really all up into herbs and plants, so he didn’t really make herb water himself-- but every time he visited Yachi, she gave him some to take back with him.

Then whenever Kageyama had successfully hunted and skinned a few animals, he’d present her with a share of meat in exchange.  
Yachi would always prefer to just live on berries and fruits alone, but when she tried once, it only took a few days for her to feel dizzy and exhausted nonstop, so that option was quickly given up on.

Every time Kageyama visited her, it felt like an escape.  
A true safe haven away from everything else.

It wasn’t like Yachi hadn’t offered Kageyama if he wouldn’t rather live here as well.  
Years ago, she’d asked.  
And Kageyama had politely declined.

There were still things left for him to do.  
Meeting Hinata again had been one of those things.

Often enough, he’d nearly given in to the temptation to just live away from everything, in peace, with Yachi.

Sliding down to sit on the tree plateau, leaning against one of the thicker branches, Kageyama allowed himself to relax.  
He didn’t want to talk about Hinata’s memory loss, and Yachi had picked up on that.

She rekindled the small fireplace-- small enough for it to not set the whole tree ablaze-- and put on a pan with water.

“You know,” Kageyama started, “He still looks exactly the same as when he was a kid. Just imagine him a bit taller, a little less baby fat and more unruly hair.”

Yachi laughed softly.  
“That’s pretty easy to imagine. So he looked healthy, huh?”

He nodded.  
“He’s in good hands with Karasuno. I’m glad. . . I don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

She cast him an all-knowing, silent glance.  
“How was he like?”

“Still a dumbass,” Kageyama concluded, “Likes to talk back, too. If I tell him ‘no’, he does ‘yes’. Stubborn as fuck, nearly set the whole hideout ablaze on the first night.”

He paused, looking down at his hands.

“Hinata’s also really warm.”

Yachi easily coaxed him into talking about Hinata, she knew exactly what to say.  
She listened to him as he recalled the past few days, finding the same joy in hearing about her long lost childhood friend.

Soon enough, both had a cup of herb water, and talking became even easier.

Kageyama had missed this, truly.  
Just freely pouring out his heart, to the person he trusted the most in this world.  
And he wasn’t alone, Yachi in her turn, told him about her experiences in the forest.

How beautiful the fireflies dancing across the lake were, how she saw stars falling down the sky one night, how cute the newborn _baby deer_ were.

For a few hours, Kageyama didn’t have to think about his web of lies, Hinata and his lack of childhood memories or Walkers.

“Is it okay if I stay here for a while?” he asked, when night began to fall.  
A few fireflies had wormed their way through the leaf packets and lit up the hidden tree hideout.  
“I didn’t part with Hinata on a good note, cause. . . you know. . . I didn’t want him to get attached to me. Even after I told him the truth about my involvement with the herd.”

“Sounds like _you_ were the one becoming attached,” Yachi hummed sneakily, and Kageyama huffed in disagreement.  
“And of course. You know you’re always welcome.”

“No way. He started to get really clingy.”  
“And. . . did you push him away?”  
“. . . No.”

Laughing, she threw her hands into the air.  
“Tobio, really?”

“I tried to!”  
“Not hard enough, then!”  
“You wouldn’t know, he was--”

Grumbling softly, he bit his bottom lip, remembering their last night.  
“. . . He was acting all sweet ‘n coy, leaning against me and stuff. . .”

Yachi couldn’t stifle her giggle.  
“Uh-huh.”  
She never expected she’d get to see Kageyama like this.  
Yachi knew he was tough, but also that he wasn’t _just_ tough.  
“How cute.”

Crossing his arms, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides, I’m never going to see Hinata again.”

“And why is that?”

“First off, I told him I was the sole perpetrator that caused the herd to flood Karasuno territory. Every single one death that occured because of it, will be blamed on me. Which is fine, I chose this for myself.”

Yachi sighed.  
By now they were on their second round of herb water.  
“You’re really something else, Tobio. I think you’ve driven yourself into an unnecessary corner.”

Oh, Kageyama was aware.  
He’d made it really difficult for himself just because he couldn’t figure out what he wanted.  
Especially in relation to Hinata.

Lies are a groundless base, nothing can be build upon it.

“. . . Secondly. I literally told him to his face I don’t want anything to do with him anymore.”  
And Kageyama regretted it.  
Despite his decisions.

He did want to see Hinata again.  
He did want to hunt with him, discover with him, grow with him.  
But he couldn’t.  
Hinata belonged with Karasuno.

Kageyama also blamed horrible timing for it.  
If that cursed Shiratorizawa just waited a few days before releasing that herd, he wouldn’t have had to go through it all.  
He wouldn’t have had to choose for Hinata’s sake.  
Let him remember, or live his life blissfully unaware?

The destruction of Kitagawa Daiichi wasn’t a nice memory, after all.  
Nor was getting buried underneath a wall, or being ripped away by fate from your childhood friends in the span of an hour.

Kageyama realised something.  
Yachi watched as he did.

She saw him bury his face into his hands, legs pulled up close to his chest.

 _He would never see Hinata again.  
_Just when they finally met again.  
When that has been his whole reason for living all these years.

An unsettling feeling crawled in his stomach, clawing into his insides.  
He could feel his heart thump in his ears.

The thick, hot tears came out of nowhere.  
Kageyama hadn’t cried in so long.

A strained noise of utter distress rose as his whole body shook, once.

Yachi could almost feel how torn up Kageyama felt about everything he did or didn’t do.  
These weren’t the kind of choices a person should ever have to make.  
No matter how tough someone is, everyone has a breaking point.

She quietly joined him at his side, wrapping her arms around him.  
The sensation of skin against skin was something they both missed a lot in their lives, and this physical touch was welcome and reassuring.

Both lived alone, and even though Kageyama used to be with Aobajohsai, Yachi could only assume they weren’t giving each other group hugs on a regular basis there either.

Threading her fingers through his silky, raven hair, she wanted Kageyama to know that he wasn’t alone.  
“It was difficult, wasn’t it? Not being able to share with Hinata how much you really missed him?” she hummed in a soft voice.

A sharp intake of air was her cue that she hit the nail on the head.

“You really have a habit of making life just a bit more difficult for yourself,” she continued.  
Yachi knew how Kageyama worked.  
Though she could never look fully into his mind, she recognized some patterns.

Kageyama was self-destructive.

“If you were just a bit more honest. . . It’ll be okay. You can always come visit me. I’m your friend, you’re not alone in this world,” she said.  
“Are you sure Hinata hates you?”

A muffled “. . . maybe,” was the answer.

“Well, I don’t think he does,” she said, “It’s still Hinata after all.”

“. . . Hitoka, I really. . .” Kageyama mumbled, a low rumble rising from his chest.  
“. . . really wish I didn’t meet Hinata.”

“Why?”

“ _God_ , because it _hurts so much_. It isn’t-- It isn’t supposed to feel like this.”

Yachi thought she felt her heart break a little at those words.

“I would’ve been better off thinking he was dead instead of having to feel like this. I don’t _want_ to feel like this.”

She couldn’t help it, she felt her own tears burning at the corners of her eyes.  
Yachi knew the feeling he was talking about.  
When she thought she was alone on the world.  
When she was stuck in the limbo of uncertainty.  
Were Tobio and Shouyou still alive somewhere, or not?  
The darkest times of her life.

“I thought I did the right thing.”

“I don’t think there really was a ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ you could’ve done in this case,” she whispered, “You just want the best for Hinata.” 

Yachi was a neutral force in relation to the various gangs of Tokyo-- though she didn’t see Shiratorizawa in a favorable light.  
She wasn’t partial to Karasuno, nor to Aobajohsai.  
Only to Kageyama.

“You didn’t know that Hinata lived with Karasuno. Or that he’d be out and about at that time. You didn’t know these consequences of helping Oikawa with that herd.”

Kageyama nodded slowly, bit by bit being convinced.

“Life is unfair.”

Kageyama nodded again.  
Life is unfair.

He swallowed.

“. . . right. Yeah. Okay. I’m. . . Thank you, Hitoka.”

With the back of her hand she wiped her own tears away, as Kageyama did the same.  
Smiling, she sat down right beside him.

“Of course. Always.”

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


“What the actual _fuck_.”

When Ushijima called them all together, and told them that Tendou had kidnapped one of Fukurodani, that sentiment was collectively shared between everyone.

Even Ushijima himself seemed to be surprised at this new development in Tendou’s antics.

The man, stoic as ever, awaited any further reactions of the group.  
When none came, he added even more worrying information.

“Tendou wants to expand his experiments to humans.”

“Oh god,” Goshiki breathed, glancing back over towards Semi and Shirabu.  
“That’s, ehm. . .”

“Do you know what you are, Ushijima?” Semi interrupted, his expression unreadable.  
He stared point blank into their leader’s olive eyes, who, almost unnoticeably, slightly tilted his head to the side.

“A goddamn enabler,” Semi spat, squinting his eyes as he took a step forward.  
“Humans? There’s already a low amount of us around, and now that psychopath wants to _experiment_ on them?!”

Shirabu honestly couldn’t agree more with his lover.  
He and Semi may argue a lot too, but those were the bickerings of an old, married couple.

He felt the tension in the room shift, though.  
Even if Ushijima wasn’t showing it, Shirabu could see it in his darkened expression.  
Dangerous.

Automatically, he inched a bit closer towards Semi, who still met Ushijima’s stare head-on, fuming

Goshiki watched it unfold from the side lines.  
The young man would never cross Ushijima.

“How long until Tendou’s going to want to ‘experiment’--”  
Air quotations, serious disbelief.  
“-- on one of us, huh?!”

“Tendou would never do such a thing,” Ushijima answered, the tone of his voice monotone and all-knowing.  
Radiating authority.  
“Human experiments don’t matter if he uses someone from another, rival group for it.”

Semi would beg to differ.  
Human experiments in a world where humans were scarce, hunted and going extinct in an alarming rate.  
He couldn’t wrap his head around it.  
Semi tolerated a lot from his fellow group members.  
But this was a new level of insanity.

It was clear Ushijima wasn’t going to budge, with his soft spot for the red head widely known.  
He never budged.

“ _Eita_ ,” Shirabu muttered, “Come.”

He grabbed Semi’s wrist, and for a moment he thought Semi was going to shake him off-- but then he breathed out deeply through his nose, averted his gaze from Ushijima, and let Shirabu lead him.

Ushijima’s eyes followed them as they passed by, exiting through the door into the hallway.  
The boring, white hallway.  
Everywhere in the Centre, it was the same.

“You idiot!” Shirabu then snarled once they were out of earshot.  
“You really thought crossing Ushijima like that was a good idea?!”

“Shirabu, Tendou _kidnapped_ a human with the intent to experiment on them,” Semi hissed back, just as eager to defend himself.  
“Experiments on Walkers? Sure, whatever! I can deal with that! But on _people_?!”

“You knew it was going to come to that one day, Tendou is never satisfied,” Shirabu retorted, gripping Semi’s wrist tightly, “Tendou is pretty much vice-leader of Shiratorizawa, he can do whatever the fuck he wants!”

Semi broke free out of Shirabu’s grasp, pulling away from him.  
The disgust and disbelief hadn’t left his eyes.

Shirabu knew, that in the end, Semi was too grounded in empathy to accept human experimentation, even if it were a rival group’s.  
As Shiratorizawa’s medicine and healing expert, there was a line Semi couldn’t cross, despite the world they lived in.  
He wasn’t a true killer, not really.

“Fuck off, Shirabu,” he grumbled, stalking past the shorter male without another word.  
This one may turn out to be more than just old married couple bickering, after all.

Pulling up his bottom lip, Shirabu watched as Semi disappeared around a corner, not turning back to look once.  
That did hurt, but Shirabu was the voice of reason, here.

_Right?_

Shirabu wouldn’t deny he found human experimentation unsettling.  
Tendou walked a thin line between sane and insane, more often than not.

He’d made it clear to the rest of Shiratorizawa that he only sought to drive away boredom, though.  
Shirabu didn’t think Tendou was lying about that, but still-- wasn’t this going a bit too far?  
Then again, he thought the same when Tendou started hoarding Walkers like cattle in the empty detention cells, and that was years ago.

Could he accept human experimentation as just another one of Tendou’s quests to entertainment?  
A way to cope with living in this world?

Clearly, Semi couldn’t.

A large hand rested on Shirabu’s shoulder, as he was staring into the direction Semi had disappeared to.

“I suggest you keep him in check.”  
Ushijima’s stone cold voice echoed through Shirabu’s head.  
He knew the implications.  
“We don’t need Semi Eita.”

Shirabu didn’t move an inch.  
But he did raise his eyebrows.  
“. . . We do need him.”

“Oh? And for what? Your abilities replace his.”

He swallowed.  
Ushijima was intimidating as ever, and they weren’t even facing each other.  
Shirabu wasn’t going to actively go against him, but he’d defend Semi, at least.

“He’s smart. He knows how to treat even the worst of injuries, and he’s strong. He. . .”  
_He keeps me human._

The words stuck in his throat.

Without Semi to remind him of the better moments in life, Shirabu would’ve long lost all sense of morality long ago.

“I see,” came the answer.  
It didn’t hold any venom or sarcasm.  
Just a genuine curiosity, perhaps even consideration.

Ushijima removed his hand from Shirabu’s shoulder.  
He turned around and walked away, heavy footsteps slowly fading.

When Shirabu found he’d completely disappeared, he breathed out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.  
He swore his heart had stopped beating for a few seconds.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to look for Semi.  
Whenever he and Semi argued, it were either heated fights or casual banter back and forth.  
And they always made up at the end of said argument.  
Neither had ever actually turned away from the other, the way Semi walked away from Shirabu just now.  
Never before they could reach a mutual agreement-- or agree to disagree, for that matter.

And it did tick Shirabu off.  
But he was also worried.  
Semi often had outbursts targeting Tendou, but not Ushijima.

He turned the corner Semi had turned.  
Of course, that next hallway was also empty.  
But he had a hunch as to where the man would be.

Pacing along, he bit his bottom lip.  
He navigated through the hallways, towards the cells.  
The groaning of many Walkers became louder and louder as he approached the block.

Shirabu absolutely hated being here.  
But he was determined to find Semi as quickly as possible.  
And his perseverance was rewarded.

Ignoring all cells with Walkers, in the distance, he saw Semi.  
Talking.  
To something-- someone-- in the last cells.

Semi’s face stood neutral, only soft words spoken, whispering.  
Pressing his lips into a thin line, Shirabu stomped over towards him.

“-- if I can, I will,” was what Shirabu caught from Semi before the latter noticed his arrival.  
He saw Semi squinting his eyes back at him, abruptly discontinuing the conversation with the prisoner.  
Suspicion in his eyes.  
Uncertainty.

“What were you talking about?” Shirabu asked, trying his best to keep his voice under control.  
He wanted to simultaneously hit and hug the ash blonde in front of him.

“Nothing important enough that you need to worry your pretty little head about.”  
“I think it definitely is important enough when you’re exchanging secrets with a prisoner.”

Semi rolled his eyes.  
“No secrets were exchanged. Only warnings.”  
“Warnings?”

“Oh, only about what’s going to happen to him, what Tendou’s going to do,” Semi sneered, “Cause he’s not going to leave this place with all his limbs attached, that’s for sure. If he’ll even leave at all.”

Shirabu definitely detected the feeling of hurtful betrayal in Semi’s voice.  
If Shirabu hadn’t catered to calming him down before, though, Semi might have been thrown out of the group by Ushijima already.  
And that was the last thing Shirabu wanted.

Shirabu huffed.  
“Taking pity on the enemy, are you?”  
Those weren’t the words he meant to say.

“You know what?” Semi said, “Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

That was a surprise.  
Not that he was, in fact, taking pity on the prisoner, but that he felt so detached from Shirabu when he said it.

Semi and Shirabu’s relationship was grounded in having each other’s backs and being on each other’s side.

Shirabu wasn’t actively on Semi’s side this time.  
Because he didn’t want Semi to be exiled from Shiratorizawa.

Shirabu didn’t understand why it was different this time.  
Semi had killed people before, too.  
Though the least out of all of Shiratorizawa.  
But why now decide that taking prisoners for the sole purpose of experimentation was a step too far? 

What flaky morals did Semi hold up?

Shirabu took a step closer towards Semi, and spoke in a soft voice.  
“Ushijima’s going to kick you out if you keep acting like this.”

“Yeah? That’s no surprise. Even I know you’ve already surpassed me in skill, I’m more curious about why he hasn’t throw me out _already_.”

“Because,” Shirabu hissed, “We’re still a group, and we’ve grown up together. Even if you’re not as skillful as Ushijima would like, years of living together made sure even he became somewhat attached to you. That’s why.”

“So I’m being kept around for pity’s sake, fantastic.”

But Shirabu saw Semi faltered a bit, his bite subsiding.

“Not pity,” Shirabu mumbled, “You know that Tendou likes you too. We are still a _family_.”

“Family? Yeah right,” Semi scoffed, shaking his head softly.  
“No, Shirabu. We _were_ a family. It’s already falling apart.”

It didn’t matter if Shirabu wanted to deny it, Semi was right.  
Shiratorizawa was by no means a normal group, but they always made it work, somehow.  
But ever since Taichi and Reon died-- were killed-- last year, the whole system that made them work started to crumble.

Semi walked past Shirabu, once again.  
But the latter wouldn’t let him leave this easily this time.

He spun around and wrapped his arms around Semi’s waist, pushing his forehead into the dip of his back, inhaling the familiar scent.  
His hands splayed across the other’s stomach.  
Feeling him inhale and exhale.

Semi stopped moving.  
Nothing happened, not a word was said.  
Until Shirabu felt a warm, larger hand locking around his own, still holding onto Semi for dear life.

The ultimate form of reassurance.

“I’ve told you before, Kenjirou,” Semi mumbled softly, barely heard over the Walker noises all around them.  
“I’m not planning on staying with Shiratorizawa until the bitter end.”

When Shirabu didn’t reply, he continued.

“I’m not going to die here. There’s more to this world than Tokyo and Walkers. I’m sick of this place,” he said, “I want to see more of the world while I can.”

He tightened his grip around Shirabu’s hand slightly.  
“Here, we’re just waiting until Tendou pushes it too far with the other groups and we get attacked for real.”

“How. . .”  
Shirabu finally found the words.  
“How can you. . . look forward to seeing the world? It’s just going to be the same. . . Death and Walkers.”

“Shirabu, this world is gigantic, who knows what the fuck lays on the other side?”

Shirabu couldn’t help but smile to himself.  
Semi’s twisted optimism surfaced in the weirdest of ways sometimes.

Semi wanted to see the world.  
Despite knowing how it is to live in it.

. . . Maybe he was right.  
They didn’t know what layed on the other side.

Thinking about it, a small flame of curiosity sparked deep in Shirabu’s chest.

Shiratorizawa wasn’t a warm group to be in.  
Shirabu knew that groups like Aobajohsai and Fukurodani were close like a family, and would go to extreme lengths for each other.

Shiratorizawa wasn’t like that.  
They were friends in a way, sure.  
And they did care about each other.  
But if it all came down to it, they would all save themselves rather than potentially sacrificing their life for another.

With one exception.  
Shirabu would most definitely lay down his life to save Semi, would that ever be needed.  
For him, he’d stoop down to the lowest levels of humanity, and throw away his pride.

Now Shirabu understood why Semi was more free in his way of speaking lately.  
Why he let himself argue back easier.

Semi was preparing to leave Shiratorizawa once and for all.

“I’m not--” Semi choked up midway.  
“I’m not asking you to come with me. If you’d rather stay here, I--”

“Oh, shut up.”

Shirabu loosely pulled away from Semi, unhooking his arms.  
He stepped around, finally facing him, glancing up into his lover’s brown eyes.

“You know damn fucking well I’ll follow you wherever you go,” he said, angrily staring.  
Semi nearly couldn’t contain a smile, the sides of his mouth were twitching, his eyes joyous.  
“You’re not leaving me behind.”

“Alright, I won’t, then,” Semi answered with a laugh, taking Shirabu’s hand in his.  
He leaned forward, closer.  
“Let’s go back to my room. Cause I have a plan.”

With a nod, Shirabu followed as Semi walked back past the cells, then out of the block, and back into the white hallways they were.  
The Walker’s animalistic moans were muted when the door closed behind them.

A plan.  
So Semi really had been preparing to leave.  
Well, Shirabu didn’t expect anything less from him.  
Semi was a great fighter, sure.  
He’s the type to kill Walkers with no second thought, while trying to minimize human casualties.  
Even when they are people from rival groups.

Shirabu had asked Semi once, why he joined Shiratorizawa to begin with.

“Well,” he’d answered, “This group is the safest. Everyone here is well-equipped to survive in this world, mentally and physically.”

He hadn’t joined because he liked killing, or because he wanted to be powerful.  
Semi simply wanted to survive.  
That has always been his main priority, while most others of Shiratorizawa did join because of those earlier reasons.

Shirabu did join because of those earlier reasons, too.

But his hunger to dominate over the other groups died down over time, with the help of Semi.  
His anger subsided over the years.

Semi lit a few candles once they both entered his room, and the door was safely locked behind them.  
Everything smelled like Semi.  
This chamber was more reassuring to be in than his own room, Shirabu found out long ago.

Minimal decorations.  
A bed, a heap of clothing in one corner, a small table with a couple of knives and a pistol, a spear to the side.  
Various magazines strewn around on the floor, a pair of extra shoes.

The bed creaked softly as the older male sat down, pulling the younger with him.  
Shirabu latched on immediately, thighs on either side of Semi’s, kicking off his shoes.  
Larger hands ran up underneath Semi’s blouse, cupping around his waist.

Tightly pressing himself against Semi, his arms loosely around his neck, the two silently bathed in each other’s closeness for a while.

Shirabu felt Semi’s breathing create a heated patch in the fabric of his blouse, seeping into his skin.  
Plucking at the ash blonde’s hair, Shirabu sighed contently.

Semi moved up, the dip right above his nose slotting against Shirabu’s neck.  
An open-mouthed, yet light kiss pressed against his Adam’s apple.

“ _Eita_. . . you didn’t promise the prisoner you’d save him or whatever, right?”  
“Not exactly. . . I promised to get him out of there _if the situation presented itself_.”

“Oh my god,” Shirabu grumbled softly, “And how would such a situation present itself?”

“If the guy’s still alive when we leave Shiratorizawa, I don’t mind marching into Tendou’s chamber and snatch the cell keys,” Semi stated, “You know, as a goodbye ‘fuck you’.”

“You’re crazy. Do you want to save the prisoner because it means fucking with Tendou one last time? Really?”  
Slight disbelief.  
Shirabu didn’t think Semi could be childish like this.

“That, yes, but also--”  
Semi looked up at Shirabu.  
“I’d feel guilty. Leaving him behind to rot when we are leaving ourselves, and could potentially get him out of there.”

He paused.

“Don’t get me wrong, though. I’m not going to risk your life or my own for him. Like I said, only if the situation presents itself.”

That sounded reasonable enough, Shirabu concluded.  
“Fine. Who knows, we could always use him as Plan B if all things go to hell. Which one from Fukurodani is it?”

“Ahh. . . Akaashi. The one with black hair and thick-ass eyebrows.”  
“. . . I’m surprised he of all people let himself be caught by Tendou.”

Semi shrugged.  
“He just dealt with the burning of their home.”

Shirabu let the other readjust him on his lap, comfortably being cradled in Semi’s arms, now.

Ah, Shirabu remembered when he first noticed how his body reacted when near Semi.  
When they touched intimately for the first time, and Shirabu didn’t know what to do with himself, with these foreign feelings.  
For days after, he wouldn’t let Semi near him, far too fearful.

Resting his head on Semi’s shoulder, Shirabu waited for him to talk again.  
And he did.

“About my plan to leave Shiratorizawa. I’ve called it ‘Eita’s Escape Plan That Possibly Results In Death.”  
“Very fitting. Go on.”  
“If the weather’s looking grand, we should leave in a few weeks or so.”  
“Hmhm.”  
“We’re not going to tell anyone that we’re leaving, but we’re not going to sneak around either. We can cover it up as going out to hunt, or something.”  
“Hmhm.”  
“We pack everything we need the night before. And, if the situation presents itself-- if that Akaashi’s still alive by then-- we’ll take him along for the ride, drop him off near Fukurodani before leaving through their territory.”  
“I still think we shouldn’t concern ourselves with the prisoner.”

Semi sighed.  
“You thought you shouldn’t concern yourself with me either until you noticed my fine ass.”

“Naturally.”

“So you’re just after me ‘cause of my body?”  
“. . . If only your face was as _fantastic_ as that butt of yours.”  
“ _Oh_ , now you’ve done it.”

It didn’t take Semi long to entangle both of them between the sheets, especially since Shirabu didn’t resist at all.  
Legs were entwined, only their clothing separating them as they kissed.  
Shirabu cupped the sides of Semi’s head between his hands, locking him in place.  
Semi’s own hands held the other’s thighs, his thumbs caressing in small, rhythmic circles.

Kissing reaffirmed their bond came out stronger than it was before.  
Besides, Shirabu really couldn’t do without these kisses anymore.  
Whether with tongue or not, quick pecks, chaste kisses or long, languid ones.

Some minutes had passed, and they broke away from each other.  
A smile played along his lips as Shirabu watched the other rearrange the blankets, the need for orderliness kicking in right after Semi messed them up himself.

But soon enough, Semi deemed it good enough, and nestled down next to Shirabu, his chest against the latter’s back.

Life with only Semi wouldn’t be bad at all, Shirabu thought.  
Traveling around. . . why hadn’t he considered that as an option before?  
He thought he’d always want to stay with Shiratorizawa, but now that sentiment has changed.  
Though they were giving up safety.  
By leaving, they only had each other, and had to deal with whatever was out there in the world.

But it was also exciting.

And less dangerous than he originally assumed.

If they were traveling, they’d be constantly moving.  
Constantly moving ahead of whatever herd trailed them.

And sure, they may find themselves in extremely deadly situations sometimes.  
They may very well die along the way.  
But that wasn’t any different from the days they currently lived.  
No risk, no reward.

Semi tightened his grip around Shirabu’s waist a bit, soft snoring the only sound to be heard in the dead of night.  
Shirabu was ready.  
Ready to take on the world outside of Tokyo, together with Semi.

With those lingering thoughts, Shirabu too, fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	12. Lost Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, walls are crumbling.
> 
> Also, an unlikely alliance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit nervous if I wrote a specific part of this chapter well or not, you might know what I mean when you read it.  
> By the way, believe me when I say the time skip is absolutely necessary.
> 
> Nonetheless, I hope you'll enjoy!

The first two weeks of Hinata being back with Karasuno was a true test of his mental strength.

He couldn’t do anything by himself.

He couldn’t go outside.  
He couldn’t run.  
He couldn’t hunt.  
He couldn’t walk much.  
He couldn’t be useful.  
He couldn’t smile.  
He couldn’t laugh.  
He couldn’t cry.  
He couldn’t visit Kageyama.

He could only wait.

Wait for time to heal the wound on his thigh.

His skin paled.  
His eyes were dark-rimmed, lifeless and sunken.

Hinata passed hours sitting on the couch in front of the hearth.  
Often, someone sat by him, and tried to have a conversation.  
After a few days, only Suga and Daichi attempted it, sometimes.

But they all saw.  
And they all suffered with him.

By now, the corpses outside the orphanage were burnt to the ground, most of the ashes taken by the wind and drowned by the rain.

Nishinoya nor Asahi had returned yet.  
They couldn’t be completely sure, but they were both assumed dead.

Days didn’t only pass for Hinata and Karasuno.

A few miles away, Kageyama spent his days with Yachi.

He hunted, they drank herb water, laughed and told each other stories.  
They only had to deal with many Walkers once, when a new herd passed through Tokyo and into their forest.

She showed him the fireflies dancing across the lake, and Kageyama silently dreamed that in another life, he, Yachi and Hinata could watch it together.

Yachi saw that Kageyama missed Tokyo.  
Or rather, that he missed _someone_ in Tokyo.

But Kageyama himself drowned out those desires by hunting, learning to thrive on the ecstasy of a fast paced hunt instead of thinking about Hinata.  
He’d go back to Johzenji’s hideout soon, though.  
He had to.

Then there was Semi.  
Semi and Shirabu.

They’d started making serious plans for the future, keeping Eita’s Escape Plan That Possibly Results In Death in mind.

Sometimes, they theorized about what they’d find outside of Tokyo.  
More people?  
More herds?  
Or maybe paradise?

“What if we find like, human settlements or something? What if there’s a whole fuckin’ society out there?”  
“Then we’ve seriously missed out,” Shirabu had replied.

The more they talked about it, the more Shirabu became convinced that, despite the odds, this was going to be a step worth taking.  
Out of the safety of Shiratorizawa into the unknown open world out there.  
It was a change, but just like Semi, Shirabu did not really feel like going down with their current group.

Semi kept visiting Akaashi almost daily, even when he was placed into a different cell block.  
And apparently things weren’t looking up for him.

_Who would’ve guessed?_

But, Tendou never ceased to surprise them, and had taken an approach that neither Semi nor Shirabu --nor anyone, really-- expected.

Nekoma and Fukurodani meanwhile practically fused into one group.  
While Semi and Shirabu prepared a plan to leave Shiratorizawa once and for all, Nekoma and Fukurodani prepared a plan to permanently remove Shiratorizawa off the face of the Earth-- once and for all.

Nekodani was born.

Bokuto objected to the name, but was quickly overruled by literally everyone else as nobody felt like having that argument.

Both groups had suffered incredible losses in a small amount of time, and they knew exactly what Shiratorizawa’s end goal was.  
They also concluded they wouldn’t be able to do this alone.

Nobody trusted Aobajohsai enough to ask them for help.  
But there was one more.

Would they succeed in convincing Karasuno to join their revolt against Shiratorizawa, they might just stand a chance.  
If they fail, three options are left.

Option one, wait for Shiratorizawa to attack again in one way or another, and hope and pray that Nekodani survives.  
Option two, attack the Tokyo Detention Centre without Karasuno.  
Option three, flee Tokyo.

All three were much less desirable, so to say.

Nekodani was done losing their friends without being able to do anything to stop it.  
Besides, if they read Shiratorizawa right, they would try something soon enough again.  
Perhaps with Aobajohsai or Karasuno this time.  
Which meant they had to act fast.

Then finally, after three long weeks, the bandage around Hinata’s thigh came undone.  
They cleaned the skin, Hinata eagerly watching, unable to contain his excitement.

All that’s left was a thick, peach scar in place of the wound.  
It had healed very well.

The last few days before the bandage could come off would forever go down in Karasuno history as the Rebirth of Hinata Shouyou.

He’d started to eat more, talk more, move around more and started smiling again.

Hinata had made a complete recovery out of the cage of his depression, clawing himself out of thoughts of despair himself.

At that point even Tsukishima welcomed the ginger’s old personality back.  
Not being able to get any reaction out of Hinata for weeks had started to become really boring.

And so, that night, Karasuno celebrated.  
They kept their lost friends in mind, but moved forward along the pace of the world.

**xxx**

White.  
It numbed his senses, his thoughts and his mind.

Silence.  
It numbed his senses, his thoughts and his mind.

He had to breath.  
Loudly.  
Breath in, breath out.

Don’t focus on the white.  
Don’t focus on the silence.

Breath in, breath out.

The only noises were his breathing.

He was still alive.

Right?

He forced himself to cough, despite not needing to.  
It was the most welcoming noise he’s ever heard.  
His own raspy, empty cough.

He could still hear, then.  
Right.  
He could still listen.

Periodically breath in, breath out.  
Periodically cough.  
Sometimes even utter a nonsensical, random word.

He couldn’t feel his muscles or his skin.  
The white floor was cold.  
The white walls on his left and right were cold.

The white blanket was warm.

But it was white.

And Akaashi had really started to despise ‘white’.

Like a cage, white encaptured him.  
The white closed in on him.

Even if he closed his eyes, the white still haunted him.

So he stayed awake instead, hoping to catch a sound, a change, a color.

This was the last thing Akaashi expected when he was taken by the redhead, Tendou Satori.  
He’d thought he most likely wouldn’t leave Shiratorizawa without a missing limb-- or with an injury that permanently rendered an important part of his body useless-- or that he wouldn’t ever leave at all.

Not this.  
Not this kind of torturous _hell_ he created for Akaashi.

Perhaps Tendou had anticipated Akaashi could bear with missing an eye or an arm.  
Perhaps he’d known.  
Perhaps, that Akaashi valued his mind and thoughts over anything else he owned.

At least the silence wasn’t as bad as the white.  
He was aware, that that one guy he spoke to weeks ago, on his first day in Shiratorizawa’s hands-- Semi Eita, was it?-- tried to help.

He did so by making noise.  
Every other day, or that’s what Akaashi thought, at least, Semi would hang around his cell for a bit and _yell_.  
Just yelling words.  
By now Akaashi couldn’t really make out what words he yelled, but it didn’t matter.

He had to yell because the walls, the door, were thick.  
Meant to isolate.

Semi’s yelling.  
If it wasn’t for that, then. . .

What was he thinking about?

Akaashi coughed again.  
He didn’t remember.

Turn his head to the left.  
White.  
To the right.  
White.

He glanced at the tower of _white_ plates haphazardly placed on top of each other, next to him.  
He reached out and grabbed the top one.

It was okay.  
He could give himself this new noise.  
He deserved it.

With one swing, he smashed the plate to the ground, the breaking of the shards echoing between the walls.  
It echoed through in his head.

A soft sigh of relief.

It calmed his mind a little bit.  
Distracted him a little bit.

Akaashi tried to recall Fukurodani.  
He tried to recall their faces.

And he failed.

All that he recalled were blank expressions, empty slates without eyes, a nose, a mouth.

He tried to think of their names.  
That went better.  
Bokuto.  
Konoha.  
Shirofuku.  
Suzumeda.  
Washio.  
Sarukui.  
Komi.  
Anahori.

Their voices. . .  
Bokuto was loud.  
He couldn’t remember any more.

There was one thing that gave him some form of joy.  
The one thing he clearly remembered.

When Tendou jumped him out of nowhere in the forest, after he went out to check the damage.  
Tendou was fast, unpredictable.  
But Akaashi didn’t go down without dealing some damage.

He remembered that pure red, matching the male’s hair.  
When Akaashi swiftly turned around, just in time.

His razor-sharp knife cut diagonally across Tendou’s chest, tearing his garment and into his flesh.  
Warm blood splotches.  
The thinnest streak into Tendou’s skin.

The latter had jumped backwards last second, only the far end of Akaashi’s knife slicing into him.

_That kind of red._

How much time had passed?

Akaashi didn’t know.  
He was tired.  
Exhausted.  
Of keeping his eyes open.

Closing his eyes, white.  
The blanket around him, white.

He finally fell asleep.

White.

**xxx**

Placing a bouquet of wildflowers down onto the grave, Hinata closed his eyes.  
He let the breeze whisper to him, hoping to hear Ukai speak through it.

He wished he could’ve said goodbye.  
Suga had said that Ukai wanted Hinata to know that he promised to watch over them all, and that he should never forget he wasn’t alone in this world.  
It lessened the pain, but only slightly.

He, Suga and Daichi had a good heart-to-heart talk that ended a little while ago.  
About Oikawa and Kageyama.  
Who was to blame for Karasuno’s losses?

“I’ll say it again, me and Daichi only saw Oikawa at the time,” Suga had said.  
“And I believe he was the one who orchestrated the herd.”

Hinata had voiced his concerns.  
For their ears only, he’d told them he wanted to meet Kageyama again.  
To ask him about their shared past, and why he’d hidden it from him.  
But he didn’t know if he should forgive Kageyama.  
It wasn’t whether Hinata could or not-- because he could.  
He could forgive Kageyama.  
But should he?

“I guess Kageyama might have helped Oikawa out, or something,” Daichi suggested, “Especially if you said he used to run with Aobajohsai.”

“Do you. . . Do you blame him?” Hinata asked, unsure about his own feelings regarding the matter.

Suga and Daichi shared a look.

“Not really,” came Suga’s answer, “He couldn’t have had that big of a part in actually leading the herd. Besides. . .”

“He saved your life,” Daichi finished.  
“That has to count for something, I’d say.”

Hinata slowly nodded.  
The two didn’t seem mad at Kageyama, and their reasoning made sense.

Suga hummed, a slight smile creeping on his face.  
He leaned forward, closer to Hinata.  
“You said he’s been living by himself for a while?”

Hinata nodded again, suspicious of Suga’s conscious decision to divert the conversation.

“And you said he knows a lot of things, and is very good at surviving?”

“Y-yeah. . . He can read, too. He’s good with a bow and arrows, but also with a spear. He’s resourceful. . .”  
Hinata gasped.  
“Purple berries! Suga, let’s go to the forest!”

“Sure! And I’d like to meet this Kageyama sometime soon,” Suga decided then and there.  
“He seems like a peculiar character.”

Daichi shot him a look.  
“Suga--”

“What? It’s fine, isn’t it? From what I’ve heard, Kageyama doesn’t seem to be that bad,” Suga huffed, “I’m sure he had his reasons. Hinata?”

“Y-yes?!”

“Is he handsome?”

Hinata nearly choked on his own spit.  
Had he been _that_ obvious--

He felt his cheeks flush red.  
Looking down, twiddling his thumbs, he pouted unconsciously.

Daichi didn’t say a word, watching in amusement.

“. . . He’s _really_ handsome,” Hinata breathed softly.

Suga laughed joyously, like a gossiping girl.  
“I see, I see. . .”  
Then he jumped up from his chair.  
“Let’s go!”

“W-what? To where?”  
Confused, Hinata saw Daichi standing up too.

“Didn’t you want to go to the forest? Just me and you, some fresh air will do you good. And what was that about purple berries?”

Exiting the chamber, Hinata blinked his embarrassment away and bounced after the two older men.  
“Remember the last time someone ate wild berries,” Daichi warned, grumbling.

Nobody will ever forget, they all collectively remembered the three days Tanaka threw up nonstop.

“The purple berries are safe, I’ve eaten them. And Kageyama’s been eating them his whole life, or something,” Hinata confidently stated.  
“They’re really really good!”

Turning away from the grave, Hinata walked up to Suga with a slight smile, who just exited the orphanage into the garden.  
Both had their bows with arrows.  
Their goal was just to find these berries Hinata was so bend on getting, but they wouldn’t say no to hunting for a bit either.

Besides, Hinata needed a bath.

“Now that Daichi’s not around--” Suga started, as he closed the gates behind them, “We can gossip some more! Say, Hinata, how did Kageyama save you?”

It didn’t take too long for Hinata to open the floodgates of his memories about the four days with Kageyama and tell Suga everything.  
He hadn’t before, yet, in the weeks earlier.  
He had answered basic questions, but Hinata had refused to let on too much to the entirety of Karasuno.  
Hinata told Daichi and Suga more, though.

Once they reached the outer ring of Tokyo, of their territory, Hinata just started on talking about the hours before he and Kageyama left to bring Hinata to Karasuno.

“Kageyama likes to lie a lot,” Hinata concluded, “Well, maybe not ‘likes’, but. . .”

“Might be him just trying to protect you,” Suga suggested, glancing down at the ginger with a smile.  
“He doesn’t seem to be a bad person. Just a bit. . . conflicted?”

Confliction.  
That might be the emotion Hinata saw flash across Kageyama’s face so often, the one that he couldn’t really place before.

“He’s a bit of an idiot and he can be really mean,” Hinata huffed.  
“But. . . sometimes. . . he’s also really nice. . .”

Suga laughed softly.  
He patted Hinata’s head, ruffling his hair.  
“I hope you’ll be able to meet him again.”

“I-I hope so too! I need to give him a piece of my mind!”

Ah, the forest.  
He hadn’t been here since he last went with Yamaguchi, and they came back with empty hands.  
Kageyama said the berries grew basically everywhere, as long as there’s enough light.  
And the red ones were unripe.

“Oh my god!” Hinata shrieked, leaving Suga’s side to race towards the lake in the middle of the woods.  
The sun shone in big patches onto the grass around the lake and onto the lake itself, and it was a purple berry paradise.

The lake was surrounded by the bushes, the berries growing on them.  
Full, ripe and juicy.  
Hinata’s mouth started watering.  
He knew these were the right ones, he recognized them.

“Oh, but we come across these berries so often!” Suga sighed, throwing his hands in the air.  
“So you’re sure these are the ones?”

But Hinata had already stuffed hands full inside his mouth, streams of juice trickling from the corners.  
He gave a thumbs up to Suga, the latter trying really hard to not burst out laughing.

Then Suga too, picked out a few of the purple fruits, and carefully ate them.  
And he was pleasantly surprised.  
They tasted as delicious as Hinata had said.

“Wow,” he mumbled, munching on a few more, before settling with a handful on the ground on the edge of the lake.  
Hinata soon joined him.

“. . . Suga?”  
“Yeah?”  
“If. . . IF. . . Kageyama wouldn’t mind joining Karasuno, would you let him?”

Suga had more or less expected this question to come up at some point.  
He leaned backwards, gazing up at the sky.

“. . . I’d have to discuss with Daichi, he’s still our leader, after all. . . but I think. . . If Kageyama wants to, and we can find a way to determine if he’s trustworthy or not. . . Yes.”

He saw Hinata’s anticipating expression melt into a relieved grin.  
His mouth had stopped chewing for a moment, but he’d gone back to happily munching on the berries again.

“Besides,” Suga mumbled, “. . . We’ve suffered detrimental losses, too. If Kageyama is as skilled as you say he is, we might just welcome him with open arms.”

Half an hour later, Hinata carefully dipped his toes into the lake, the water grazing across the top of his foot.  
The mud was slick and slippery, so he resorted to carefully waddling further into the lake.

He didn’t stop until the lukewarm water reached his navel, sighing of satisfaction.

Days worth of dirt, sand and old blood washed away and drifted into the depths.  
A little bit of scrubbing with the cloth he’d taken with him, soon got rid of it all.

Taking a deep breath, Hinata then sunk his upper body down, submerging himself completely.  
The sand between his toes felt slimy and he could swear he saw the shadow of a gigantic monster in the distance-- Hinata liked water, he liked swimming, but not shadows in the abyss.

Quickly breaking back through the surface again, he rushed his fingers through his hair, then shook his head from left to right.  
Hundreds of tiny drops were launched and created a spectacle of droplets in the light of the sun, if only for a split second.

Hinata felt refreshed.  
Clean.  
And more confident, as if the water had taken his worries alongside the dirt.

Looking back at Suga on the shore, he saw the man casually relaxing in the shadows of a tree, but still on high alert.  
Even here, they’d have to watch out for Walkers.  
Though the undead couldn’t swim, as the slightest of current would sweep them off course, turning them into floating, groaning corpses, Suga didn’t want any surprises.

Hinata waded back through the undeep part of the lake, then padded onto the shore.  
Suga threw him his towel, and he quickly dried himself off before taking the clean clothing out of his bag and putting it on.  
Silky, soft and warm.  
Perfect.

He stuffed his old, torn and bloody clothing back into the bag.  
They’d probably just burn it later, it was useless to try and get these clean at this point.

“Hinata, you look so cute again, without all that dirt and blood!” Suga cooed teasingly, “I’d almost think you don’t age a day, you look exactly like when you were a child!”

Hinata nearly snapped his neck to glare at the older male.  
“Don’t deny me the joy of growing taller! I’ll have you know--”

But before he could finish, Suga squished Hinata’s cheeks between his hands, kneading them softly, then laughing his pretty laugh.  
All the while Hinata groaned and pouted, letting Suga have his moment.

“ _Oh god_ ,” Suga wheezed, “Okay, I’m good. I’m good now. Let’s quickly fill up these containers with the berries.”

“I’m going to tell Daichi,” Hinata huffed, begrudgingly taking one of the containers.  
He started to pluck the purple fruits, resisting the urge to eat them himself, and Suga did the same.

“Oh no, not _Daichi_ ,” Suga laughed, “My fate is sealed!”

After a bit of silence, Hinata had another question to ask Suga.  
“Hey Suga? I. . . I remembered being stuck underneath debris, and everything shook, when I was little. And I know Kageyama was there. So. . . what happened?”

He glanced over to Suga, who moved a bit closer so they could talk better.

“Oh, hm. . . You know, that shaking wasn’t just in the house you were in. It was all over Tokyo, and it’s the reason a lot of the houses you see now are collapsed, too. It’s called an earthquake.”

“An earthquake. . .” Hinata repeated, his eyes wide.  
“The earth. . . quaked?”

“Exactly. When we found you two, it was because Kageyama was crying for help, nonstop. He’d been trying to get you out from under the wall, but he just wasn’t strong enough. Besides. . .”  
Suga trailed, his brows lowering a bit.  
“. . . His leg was broken.”

“So he _was_ there when you came? Then, why. . . why didn’t you also take him with you?”  
Hinata was aware it sounded like an accusation, even if he didn’t mean to, but Suga didn’t seem to mind.

“It was only me and Daichi back then, Ukai was around but not in the immediate area. There was a Walker herd coming right for us, which was the one you had been fleeing from too, and Daichi spotted you two.”

Suga put the filled container in the bag, taking out a new one and continuing.

“So he insisted on finding you two. And, you know what? At first, we only wanted to take Kageyama with us. You were buried underneath the rubble, but Kageyama insisted that we’d get you out of there.”

The more Suga explained what happened, the more Hinata’s heart started to clench.

“And we did. We got you out of there, and you agreed to come with us. I remember you took my hand,” Suga smiled fondly at the memory, his expression a mix of love and regret.  
“Somehow, you were completely unharmed safe for a few cuts. But Kageyama. . .”

Regret.  
Now his expression showed pure regret.

“His leg was crushed underneath a large piece of the wall. There wasn’t enough time, Hinata.”

Hinata bit his lip, swallowing.  
“And I didn’t even look back.”

Suga met his eyes, a stern gaze in his own.

“It was because of a head trauma, Hinata. You didn’t not remember him on purpose.”  
“H-he must’ve been--”  
“Kageyama wanted it that way. He wanted us to save you over him.”  
“It must’ve been so _lonely_ for him--”  
“Hinata!”

Suga firmly grabbed Hinata’s shoulder, shaking him softly.  
“It’s too late to pity him now! If you want to fix the past so badly, the future is there to do so!”

The future is there to do so.

Hinata swallowed, blinking tears away that had threatened to slip.

“You’re right. You’re. . . of course you’re right,” Hinata smiled a bit and nodded, and Suga sighed relieved.

“I’m sure I can convince Daichi to at least give Kageyama a chance,” Suga then said softly, and Hinata’s eyes lit up.

After having filled up the containers with berries, the two went on their way back to Tokyo again.  
Hinata chased a rabbit, filled with the energy he stored up for weeks, successfully killed it, and triumphantly held it up and tied it to his bag.

“I’m glad you’re back to usual again,” Suga hummed.  
“Things. . . aren’t as bad as they could’ve been. The future is filled with opportun-- Hinata, come here!”

Without question, the ginger who previously marched in front of Suga, jumped back.  
He took his bow and drew an arrow, his eyes searching around.  
It had taken only one warning from Suga for Hinata to notice something was off, too.

They were on the way back to the orphanage, somewhere halfway.  
Standing with their backs against each other-- Hinata barely being able to reach Suga-- both with their arrows ready, they waited.

There were no Walkers.  
No herd.  
But. . .

“Hey hey, we’re not looking to fight. Or to die.”  
“This is what you get, Kuroo. . .”

With his hands in the air and a wide --nervous-- grin plastered on his face, Kuroo gazed at the two from Karasuno.  
Suga knew him.  
Hinata did too.

But especially Suga was not happy to see the man.

Ah, but they were surrounded, he soon noticed.  
He recognized the people.

Nekoma and Fukurodani.

What were they doing here?  
Entering Karasuno territory like this?

Suga swallowed, fixing his arrow point blank at Kuroo’s face.  
“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hey, we’re not. . . we’re just here to talk,” Bokuto chimed in, with an unusually serious expression.  
“. . . We only carry knives.”

“He’s right, we’re here to have a chat,” Kuroo nodded, relaxing slightly and lowering his hands-- only for Suga to gesture with his arrow to have them up again.  
“Okay, okay. . .”

“Hey, Shouyou,” Kenma hummed softly.  
“Long time no see.”

“Kenma! Wah! Where are the others?”

“Dead,” Kuroo curtly replied.  
“Killed by Shiratorizawa. And Inuoka jumped.”

The tension in the air rose, palpable.  
Suga frowned, squinting his eyes-- not lowering his weapon.  
“And why would Shiratorizawa do that?”

“That’s where we’d like to talk about with Karasuno. Not only did they kill off half of Nekoma and Fukurodani, they also burned down Fukurodani’s place.”

“They kidnapped Akaashi,” Bokuto added, sadness lacing the tone of his voice.  
“Everyone you see here, are the only ones to have survived it.”

Only eight.

That means Shiratorizawa claimed the lives of at least six people, within the span of a few weeks.

“Are you serious?”  
Suga nearly couldn’t believe it.  
“I. . .”

He paused to look at everyone’s face for a bit.  
Sullen, but brimming with a fire to fight back.

“Sugawara, please,” Yaku pleaded.  
That was unusual.  
Suga and Yaku always got along well in the past, and he hadn’t known the man to beg.  
“We have nothing left.”

Finally, after a ear-deafening silence, Suga lowered his weapon, but kept it ready to fire, still.  
He sighed.  
“Hinata, keep an eye on them and any suspicious movements.”

Suga was torn, though.  
_Kuroo robbed Takeda of his life.  
_And Kenma was still alive.  
Which meant the medical supplies, the medicine, had worked.  
Takeda could’ve lived if Kuroo hadn’t--

Daichi wasn’t going to be happy with this, either.  
But could Suga reject them?  
Could he trust them?

He bit his lip, licking it right after.  
Nervousness bubbled up in his stomach.

Suga didn’t think they were lying.  
Should he set aside the past?

“. . . Kuroo, Bokuto. In front of me. I’ll have you follow my directions to our hideout. Hinata, you watch the others.”

Collectively, he saw the whole group’s shoulders relax, the edges of their faces softening in relief.  
With both leaders secured-- if they tried anything, it’d take less than five seconds for Suga to have an arrow through both their heads-- Suga trusted it was safe enough.

Hinata went and excitedly talked to Kenma, not really all that distrusting towards the sudden appearance of two groups in their territory.  
But, Suga saw, he still glanced over every now and then.  
Hinata was careful.

Nekoma and Fukurodani wanted to talk.  
Their homes and people had been destroyed.  
Because of Shiratorizawa.

A gut feeling told Suga that, whatever talk they were going to have, it was going to be a life-changing one.

**xxx**

“Kenjirou, you got everything?”  
Semi peeked inside the room next to his.

He saw Shirabu strapping a knife against the inside of his lower arm, before giving Semi a confirming nod.  
“Ready. You got the keys?”

With the most shit-eating grin Semi could master, he reached inside his pocket and swung the steel key in front of him.  
“Tendou’s out again. According to Ushijima he’s looking for new unsuspecting victims for his experiments.”

Shirabu shuddered.  
“We’re not coming back for whoever he captures next.”

“We won’t, we won’t. We’re never coming back here,” Semi stated, beckoning for Shirabu to follow him.

Semi was nervous.  
He hadn’t actually seen Akaashi yet, in all these weeks.  
He only knew he was still alive, but could he even function?  
He didn’t want to leave the man behind, but what if he couldn’t even walk?

Shirabu stationed himself near the cell block’s door, while Semi went inside.  
Absolute silence.  
No Walkers in nearby cells.  
This was the isolation block of the Tokyo Detention Centre, with many unused cells.

Fumbling around with the key, he slotted it right into the cold, heavy door, and used all his weight to pull it open.  
He peeked inside, fearful.

In a corner, surrounded by the plates his food had been served on, shivering, in a ball.  
Akaashi’s black hair was the only color apart from pure, blinding white.  
White everywhere.

Semi had seen Akaashi in action before.  
A fierce survivor, who didn’t bat an eye when making difficult decisions, a warrior.  
A warrior, and a supporter.  
Kind of like Semi.

Stepping into the cell, Semi carefully approached the man in the corner.  
Akaashi didn’t move, but his bloodshot eyes followed Semi’s every movement.

He saw plucks of hair on the ground next to him; Akaashi had pulled it out.  
Shards littered the floor, the blanket crumpled up in a ball on the other side of the cell.

Pale as a ghost.  
Skitterish.  
Uncertain.

Bending down in front of him, gently, he placed his hand on Akaashi’s shoulder.  
Cold.  
He felt him flinch, but then relax.

“. . . I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner. We’re leaving. . . Akaashi.”

Neither Shirabu nor Semi knew anything about Akaashi apart from what they’ve seen in the few times they crossed paths.  
But this was so extremely sad to see.

“Come on, hey. . . we’re getting out of here,” Semi mumbled, gently helping Akaashi on his feet.  
As expected, he almost fell over if not for Semi holding him.

He felt Akaashi’s thin, bony fingers grip the fabric of his clothing.  
Heavy breathing.  
Half-lidded eyes.

But he tried.  
Akaashi tried.  
And that gave Semi hope.

Akaashi trusted him-- Semi had feared he’d have to convince the man he was here to help, but it seemed like he didn’t need to.

Slowly shuffling to the open cell door, Semi’s arm firmly around the thin frame of Akaashi.  
Too slow.  
They’d never get anywhere like this.

“Okay, new plan.”  
Semi slowly bent down through his knees, Akaashi steadied himself by leaning against his back.  
“I’m going to carry you. Are you strong enough to hold onto me?”

He looked back over his shoulder.  
Akaashi’s blank expression showing no sign of understanding.

But then he nodded slowly.

Everything about Akaashi was thin.  
Thin fingers, arms, sunken in cheeks and eyes, a thin body.  
He was very close to looking like a Walker, a living skeleton.

Akaashi slid down a bit, loosely looping his arms around Semi’s neck.  
So, so cold.  
Too cold.  
Semi thought that one wrong movement could break him in two.

With his arms supporting his legs, Semi stood up again with Akaashi on his back.  
So, so light.  
Too light.

They were going to have to slowly build up back to a normal amount of food, adding a bit more every time they’d eat.  
The three of them were going to travel together for a bit, after all.

Now, Semi started to fast-walk out of the cell, not bothering to close the door behind him.  
He felt Akaashi’s head resting on his shoulder, his cold body taking in Semi’s warmth.

“Kenji, let’s go!”

Shirabu turned his head, the tiniest flash of worry across his face at the sight, before nodding.  
“He’s still alive?”

Semi’s turn to nod.  
“Yeah. He trusted me immediately-- or maybe he just knew. . . that I didn’t mean any harm. Anyway, let’s hurry.”

They’d have to go down two floors to exit the Tokyo Detention Centre once and for all.  
There was a chance of running into someone.  
They weren’t spotted on their way to Akaashi, but anxiety resurged in Semi’s body.

If they were spotted right now, they might just be killed on the spot.

Shirabu scouted ahead in front of Semi and Akaashi, two guns in his hands.  
Listening.  
Peering around corners.

There were the stairs.  
The stairs that, once they reached them, would lead them all the way to the ground floor.  
Then it’d only be one more hallway and they’d be out.  
Free.  
At last.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Gritting his teeth, Shirabu glared down the stairs.  
With a questioning gaze, Goshiki’s eyes flickered between the three people.  
“You’re on a rescue mission?”

“Goshiki, get the fuck out of the way,” Shirabu snarled, taking a step further down the stairs, towards the black-haired man.  
“We’re leaving forever. Got a problem with that?”

“I expected that from Semi, but he dragged you along in his plan. . . _Pathetic_ ,” Goshiki replied, his true colors showing through.  
He wasn’t just a meek follower of Tendou and Ushijima.  
He was allowed to join Shiratorizawa for a reason.

“Why take Tendou’s prized experiment too?”

Shirabu didn’t answer.  
Semi had somehow managed to convince him that they should take Akaashi with them, but--   
He glanced towards his lover on his side, rendered defenseless with Akaashi on his back.  
Semi’s eyes stood ablaze.

“A chance at redemption,” Semi answered, instead of Shirabu.  
“Now fuck off.”

This time Goshiki cocked back his own gun, pointing it at Semi’s head-- while both of Shirabu’s were trained on Goshiki’s.  
A staredown, that lasted ten seconds, but for Shirabu it felt like years were drained from his life.  
Goshiki could kill them all.

“You think saving one, mentally fucked up guy redeems you?”  
Goshiki snorted.  
“Look at him. He’s as good as dead in this world.”

“We don’t have time for this. Get out of the way, last warning,” Shirabu hissed, taking another step down.

Goshiki rolled his eyes, but to their surprise, he stepped aside, lowering his gun.  
“Fine, fine. No need to be so uptight, Shirabu. I’m disappointed, though.”

Shirabu walked down the stairs, briskly walking past the younger man.  
He waited until Semi with Akaashi on his back had passed.

“Goodbye,” he mumbled, before following Semi towards the large, double door.

“ _Coward_ ,” was the only thing Shirabu caught from Goshiki, but he didn’t care.  
They were leaving forever.

Rather a coward than a dead man.

Semi had pushed open the door with his leg, breathing in the fresh air outside.  
After Shirabu exited the building and the doors fell shut, he heard a soft click.  
The doors were locked behind them.

“Finally,” Semi breathed, adjusting his grip on Akaashi a bit.  
“Let’s discover the world together, Kenjirou.”

“After we drop off Akaashi,” Shirabu reminded him, but even he couldn’t help a thin smile.  
Finally.  
“Let’s hurry out of here. That with Goshiki was close call, and I don’t feel like meeting Ushijima.”

It felt like endless possibilities opened up before their feet as they walked further and further away from the Tokyo Detention Centre, the place they had called their home for so long.  
But neither felt any regret.

“Let’s go bring Akaashi to Fukurodani.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	13. Deadly Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, who is to blame?
> 
> Also, there's a first time for everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've realised I really struggle with writing Bokuto and Kuroo, and I'm sorry for that.  
> I know I'm not doing them justice at all, but I hope to improve in the future!
> 
> Enjoy this new chapter~!

These past few weeks have been peaceful ones for Aobajohsai.  
Everything had returned back to the natural flow of their daily lives.

Peaceful.

“Mattsun, you definitely did that on purpose! I know you did!”  
“Oikawa, you’re delusional.”  
“No, you--! _Iwa-chan_! Say something!”

Flinching, Iwaizumi wisely kept his mouth.

Hissing through his teeth, Oikawa glared his best glare at his friend, who continued to laugh at his misery.  
He was soaked to the bone, trailing after the two.  
Luckily for him, today was a hot day, with the sun burning into their skin.  
He’d dry soon enough, but for now, Oikawa looked like a drowned rat.

Iwaizumi glanced over his shoulder.  
Suppressing a snort, he instead slowed his pace to walk next to Oikawa, who wore the cutest yet most annoyed pout to date.

“You’ll be fine,” were the words of support he offered to their leader and his lover.

Matsukawa cackled even louder at this, one hand covering his heart.  
Every now and then, he too, glanced over his shoulder, which only fueled his joy.

“Now I need to bathe again!” Oikawa whined, plucking at his wet clothing stuck to his skin, “Mattsun, I look disgusting! And I’ve _never_ looked disgusting!”

Iwaizumi snatched a leaf out of Oikawa’s semi-wet hair, letting it flutter down to the ground.  
“Look, your hair’s already drying up again.”

“You don’t understand!” Oikawa shrieked, “I still need to wash it again! I don’t want my hair to smell like century old mud!”

Matsukawa wheezed, having to remind himself to breathe through his nose.  
When he could speak again, he knew just what to say.

“Where’s your proof, Oikawa? Where’s the evidence I did anything?”

Toying with the man was definitely his favorite pastime.

“I saw you! Trying to sneak up behind me, and then-- then you ‘accidentally’ bumped into me when I noticed what you were doing!”

“That’s not evidence,” Iwaizumi pointed out, “For all we know, you could be lying out of your ass.”  
“Hajime! Whose side are you on?!”  
“The side of justice.”

Now this went on for a while, until Oikawa decided that his revenge would be sweet, and left it at that.

The three of them had gone out hunting, when Matsukawa decided to celebrate the end of a day well-spent by ‘accidentally’ colliding into Oikawa in front of the river they’d been fishing at.

With his half-baked whistling, Matsukawa hopped over the fence surrounding the mansion with ease, followed by Oikawa and Iwaizumi.  
The hunt today had been fruitful, so despite the ‘accident’, Oikawa couldn’t stay mad too long.  
This had been the best hunt in weeks.

“Oho, tonight’s dinner’s gonna be a good one,” Matsukawa hummed, following the path up to the building on top of the hill, up the stone stairs.  
“Even Kunimi will be happy.”

“I highly doubt that,” Iwaizumi stated, “When is Kunimi ever happy?”

Skipping past both, Oikawa swung open the door to the mansion, hurrying inside.  
He felt the strong need to change clothing as soon as possible, and didn’t waste any time dumping everything he carried to the ground, scurrying upstairs.

Yahaba and Kyoutani were lounging on the couch, the first one waving at the returned members.  
“Ehm--”

Seeing that Oikawa had already disappeared, Yahaba turned his attention to Iwaizumi instead.  
“Kunimi wanted you to know that Kindaichi went out. . . by himself. He went after him, but we don’t know where they went. . .”

Matsukawa raised an eyebrow.  
“Didn’t we agree on three people going outside together?”  
He picked up Oikawa’s bags from the ground, instead placing them together with his own in the side kitchen.

Iwaizumi couldn’t really imagine Kindaichi of all people going outside by himself.  
He would’ve at least taken Kunimi with him--  
Why would he break the rule of three-per-group?  
What kind of emergency. . . ?

He stood silent for a moment, before walking over and slowly sitting down in one of the softer chairs, a well-deserved break for his burning muscles.  
A frown adorned his face.  
“So he just. . . went outside?”

Yahaba nodded.  
“He looked pretty intense. Me and Ken called after him but he ignored us. Kunimi heard us and came downstairs, we explained what happened, and he decided to go after him.”

“What the hell does he think he’s doing?” Iwaizumi grumbled to himself, “He’s really gonna get himself killed like that. Shiratorizawa could be around any corner.”

Yahaba shrugged, throwing him a helpless look.  
“Kindaichi was dead set on going out there.”

“Guess I’ll have to prepare a lecture, then.”  
Oikawa stood on top of the stairs, now leisurely walking down.  
Wearing a new set of fluffy, comfortable clothing, he soon joined Iwaizumi --on the chair really meant for one person-- snuggling up to him.

“I haven’t changed yet--” Iwaizumi protested, yet Oikawa just wrapped his arms around his neck in response.

“You’re not worried about Yuu?” Yahaba asked, his own worry evident.

“If Kunimi’s with him, it should be fine,” their leader replied, “Besides, he’s not someone who ventures off into dangerous territory. He _will_ get lectured when he gets back though.”

“Yeah, we can’t really have’em go out like that as if it’s the norm,” Matsukawa chimed in.

“I thought he knew better.”

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


The first signal something was wrong.  
Nobody was on guard outside in the garden of the orphanage.

But someone had seen the group --Nekodani and Suga and Hinata-- and the door swung open.  
Tanaka sprinted outside, his eyes wide and frantic.  
He glared at the members of Nekodani, his whole body shaking in confusion and anger.

“Tanaka, what’s wrong?!” Suga asked, pushing the gate open.  
He had pushed Kuroo and Bokuto aside.

Kuroo and Kenma exchanged a glance, worried.  
Perhaps Shiratorizawa had just struck Karasuno.  
Bokuto gestured the others stay back, while Hinata and Suga followed Tanaka inside, leaving Nekodani by themselves.

“It’s Noya! He’s-- he’s back!” Tanaka cried out, and Hinata’s mouth fell open, sprinting past the older male.  
Suga followed closely behind them.

They went up the stairs, meeting Yamaguchi in the hallway --who looked frightened-- and Tanaka lead them into Nishinoya’s bedroom.  
There, they found Daichi and Kiyoko.  
Noya was buried underneath blankets, and for a second Hinata thought he was dead, but then he saw him breathing slowly.  
Asleep.

Hinata could see despite the blankets, how thin Noya was.  
His skin was pale, thick, dark rims underneath his eyes.  
His hair was grimy and dirty.

Daichi stood up once he noticed Hinata and Suga, and the hurt in his expression was obvious.  
He went and tightly hugged Suga, biting his bottom lip.  
“. . . Something went wrong. He’s. . . he’s messed up. And Asahi. . . fuck-- Asahi’s dead.”

Hinata had joined Kiyoko’s side, trying to look at Noya.  
He covered his mouth when he heard Daichi’s words, tears welling up in his eyes.  
All joy from their little outing just now was gone.

Suga’s face was obscured, buried into Daichi’s shoulder.  
His body shook, Daichi gently rubbing his back as he cried.  
Their leader focused on the ceiling, biting back his own tears.

Hinata could tell from the atmosphere that the three would rather be left alone.  
Suga, Daichi and Kiyoko had grown up with Asahi.

He slipped out of the room, softly closing the door behind him as he wiped tears away.  
Little sniffs and hiccups rose.

They lost someone else.  
Even though they proclaimed Noya and Asahi to be dead before, there had still been hope.  
Hope that they’d return safely.  
But now. . .

Hinata hadn’t been particularly close to older, kind hearted man, not like Noya, Daichi, Suga or Kiyoko-- but god, did it _hurt_.  
Asahi had been one of the sweetest people he knew.

“. . . Nishinoya’s lost his mind.”

That voice was the last one Hinata wanted to hear.  
He looked up, though, and saw the blonde leaning against the wall on the other side of the hallway.  
“Tsukishima. . .”

“Me and Tadashi found him, wandering the streets of Tokyo. He’ll never be the same person we knew him as.”

Tsukishima didn’t seem to be have any ill intent, for the first time in years.  
His voice was calm.

“D-do you know what happened?” Hinata asked, rubbing his eyes.  
His heart weighed heavy.

“From what Kiyoko could decipher, Nishinoya and Asahi got cornered by the herd. To save Noya, Asahi distracted the herd by using his own life as said distraction.”

Hinata’s mind immediately imagined it.  
Torn apart by hundreds of Walkers, blood, limbs--

He shook his head quickly, shaking the image out of his thoughts.

Noya had survived out there for weeks.  
By himself.

Hinata swallowed.  
He couldn’t think for a bit.  
Nekoma, Fukurodani, Shiratorizawa, Kageyama, Noya, Asahi--

Too much.

He turned to the left, walking past Tsukishima, slowly walking back down the stairs, wobbly.

When was it going to stop?

Death wasn’t uncommon in their lives.  
But these past two months have proven to be the worst months of everyone’s lives.  
Nekoma’s, Fukurodani’s and Karasuno’s, for sure.

They had lost so much.  
More lives were lost than in the past year in total.

Hinata almost didn’t process the whole group of Nekodani sitting in the hearth room.

A very intimidated Yamaguchi sat in between them, probably to keep an eye on them-- but Nekodani didn’t seem to be attempting anything.  
Slumped on the couches, chairs and on the floor, they all wore the same expression.  
They realised something bad had happened.

“. . . What a fucked up time we live in,” Kuroo muttered, his eyes cast downward.  
“We really came in at the wrong time, huh. . .”

Kenma cast Hinata a worried glance.

But Hinata didn’t want to be here right now.  
It had taken this many deaths for him to finally, truly realise how feeble life really is.  
From one moment on another, a life could be snuffed out.

Kageyama flashed across his mind.  
He didn’t know why.  
And he got _this feeling_ \--

His tears weren’t even dried up when he grabbed his bow from the floor-- he’d dropped it sometime when they hurried up stairs-- and headed straight for the door.

He felt like throwing up.  
Not a new sensation, but this was different.

“Shouyou?!”  
“Hinata?”

But he didn’t process whose voices the calls belonged to.

 _Hinata was not_ \-- he was not going to lose Kageyama.  
He _couldn’t_ lose Kageyama.

Yet his gut feeling told him that if he didn’t hurry, exactly that was going to happen.

These few weeks had been horrible for Hinata.  
He realised many things.  
Among those things was how much he missed Kageyama’s presence.  
Especially now that he knew about their shared past--

Being with Karasuno right now would send Hinata over the edge.  
Too many people.  
He couldn’t deal with loss that way.

 _Kageyama_.

God, was Hinata thankful his body remembered how to run.  
His stamina wasn’t the best anymore after weeks of being unable to move, but he felt like flying.

Across the main road.

He ducked underneath a Walker’s arms before they could reach him.

Every second counted.  
Hinata felt that was true.

Kageyama needed help.  
He didn’t know why he knew.

He remembered Suga told him once that sometimes, he could tell what Daichi was feeling without being told.  
Maybe that was the case with him and Kageyama now, too.

Hinata tried to place the nervous itching in his stomach and chest as he ran through the streets of Tokyo.  
This unearthly, yet familiar feeling--

Ah.

Fear.

No.

No, no.

Hinata took a deep breath as he turned the last corner, carefully shimmying along the edge of crater, as to not fall in _again_.

Everything looked the same.  
Hinata looked up at the hotel building, Johzenji’s old hideout.  
It felt weird to be back here.

Was he wrong?  
Was Kageyama even here?

No, something was definitely off.

Hinata wasn’t going to be a coward.  
If Kageyama was in danger, then. . .

With his bow ready, he carefully entered the building through a broken window, glaring around for any traps.  
He didn’t know why he expected there to be traps.

Up the stairs to the first floor.  
He peeked up above.

Stomping.  
Movement.  
_A lot of stomping._

Hinata jumped out, sprinting into the next room.  
He turned the corner, and--

There it was.

Pinning Kageyama to the floor, hovering over him, was someone Hinata instantly knew the identity of, despite not knowing his name.

He’d seen him before, with Aobajohsai.  
He was the one--  
He was the person from Kageyama’s story, all those days ago.

A knife against Kageyama’s throat, a thin red line already forming from the pressure, another hand tightened around his neck.

He was struggling, the amount of sweat and heavy breathing pointing at the fact this had been going on for a while.  
Gasping for breath.

Kindaichi’s expression was clouded, livid, full of hatred, his knuckles white from the pressure he held on the knife.

How. . . did he find out Kageyama lived here?

Neither had noticed Hinata.

“Get away from him!”  
Arrow point blank at the back of Kindaichi’s head, his hands shaking.

He saw Kageyama glance over, eyes wide in fear and surprise and confusion--

_Fear._

Kageyama could only gasp for air, Kindaichi’s full weight on him making him unable to fight back.  
Seeing how the skin around Kindaichi’s eye was red and swollen Kageyama did manage to fight back at some point.

Strangely enough, Kindaichi only flicked his eyes over to Hinata once--

And dismissed him.

Too prideful?  
Too confident to fear Hinata?  
Not even worth considering a threat?

No, that wasn’t all.

Kageyama was close to dying, Kindaichi didn’t want to give up now that he had come this far.

Hinata couldn’t deal with this.  
He was fucking done.  
_Fucking_ _done_ with literally everything this world had thrown at him.

Now it was personal.  
Kindaichi had made --alongside others, sure-- Kageyama’s life a living hell back in Aobajohsai.

Hinata didn’t feel a thing when his cold fingers let go of the arrow.  
A blank expression.  
Tired.

Tired of what?

Tired of caring.

This was going to have consequences.

Naturally.

Tired of caring when his arrow pierced through the man’s head.

Someone who Hinata didn’t even really know.  
Someone who dismissed him.  
Someone who hurt Kageyama.

As if Hinata was going to let someone kill Kageyama.  
Not in a million years, if he could help it.

It seemed for a few moments, the man from Aobajohsai was still alive.  
Almost reaching up to feel for the arrow, in disbelief.  
Blood had gathered behind his teeth and seeping through, past his lips.

Then Kindaichi’s body collapsed.

But Hinata was tired of caring.

Kageyama pushed Kindachi’s lifeless body off of him with one arm, coughing loudly, gasping for more oxygen.

Blood slowly started to pool on the ground around Kindaichi’s head.  
The man’s lifeless eyes stared into nothingness.

Hinata Shouyou had taken a life.

He stood there for a while, his bow clenched in his hand.  
Staring.

That was, until he felt two strong arms around him, rapid breaths sending shivers along Hinata’s neck.

He let go of his bow.

“Ka-Kageyama, I--”  
With wide eyes, Hinata tore away from Kindaichi’s corpse.  
“ _Oh my god--_ ”

He wrapped his own arms tightly around Kageyama, seeking comfort.  
“O-oh my god _, Kageyama_ \--”

“How did you know?”  
Kageyama’s raspy voice still had to recover from nearly being strangled to death, the same thing he did to Kindaichi a few months ago, like he’d told in his story.

Ironic.

“I just-- I felt you were in danger, a-and I--”  
“Fuck, okay, Hinata, it’s okay.”  
“I-I killed--”  
“It’s okay, Hinata, _shit--_ ”

Kageyama didn’t seem to know what to do with himself either.  
His hand reached up and lightly pushed Hinata’s head into his chest, his shirt soaking up the tears.

“H-he’s _dead_ , Kageyama, he’s-- I--”  
“ _Shouyou_ , he wasn’t going to stop.”

Shouyou.

“Kageyama, I know everything. I know our past. I know about Kitagawa Daiichi. I know about Yachi. I know about _you_ \--”

Kageyama was at a loss for words.  
So he didn’t reply.

Lingering around here was dangerous.  
He glanced over at Kindaichi’s corpse, once.

Kageyama didn’t feel bad for feeling a wave of justification.  
He did not feel bad.

Kageyama had returned to the hideout not even an hour ago, to gather some last things he’d left behind when he went to go to Yachi, and had planned to leave for good.

But for some reason-- Kindaichi saw him.  
Almost as if he were waiting for Kageyama.  
Almost as if--

He’d figure it out later.

Gently, he tried to pry Hinata away from him, but the ginger wouldn’t let go.

If there was one thing Kageyama learned from Kindaichi, is that if Kindaichi was around, Kunimi has to be nearby.

“C’mon, I have to gather my stuff, Hinata.”

Moving his head to look around-- still holding onto the taller male-- only then Hinata saw that Kageyama’s bag had been laying on the ground, its contents strewn on the floor.  
He must’ve been ambushed out of nowhere.

Very, very carefully, Hinata let go.  
Kageyama wasted no time sweeping all his stuff back into the bag, relieved when he saw the compass was still intact and working, despite the crack that had formed across the surface.

One last glance at the corpse in the corner.  
Blood had soaked into Kindaichi’s clothing by now, trickling out of the arrow wound and out of his mouth and nose.

“Let’s go, Hinata. _Goddamn fuck_ \--” Kageyama cursed, his way of blowing off steam.  
He nearly died.  
He’d been careless, not expecting anyone to be in Johzenji’s place.  
Why would anyone be?

Without Hinata--  
How did Hinata know?  
He’d said that he felt it, but how the fuck does that work?

Kageyama would have to ask later.  
Not now.

A teary, trembling Hinata latched back onto him.  
As if he was afraid Kageyama would leave him behind.  
As if he thought he’d be abandoned.

The ginger had gone into a state of shock.  
Not all that surprising.

Kageyama himself was nearly losing his cool, his minds swirling with thoughts and questions.  
Later.

Ushering a now full-on crying Hinata down the stairs, he instinctively reached up to his neck when he felt stinging.  
Retracting his finger, a little bit of blood.  
He forgot about that laceration.

It didn’t feel too deep though.

Reaching the last step, he froze.  
He positioned himself in front of Hinata --who then wrapped his arms around Kageyama’s waist, pressing into his back, continuing to cry hot tears, unbeknownst to the situation at hand.

Kunimi stared back at him.  
Also frozen in place.  
He didn’t move a muscle.

They looked at each other as if both were deer caught in the headlights.  
Caught by each other.

Kageyama aggressively grabbed Hinata from behind him, and lifted him up.  
The latter’s legs instantly wrapped around him, something Kageyama was very glad for.  
Hinata held onto Kageyama like a koala.

With no word, Kageyama hurried past Kunimi, and slipped out of the building via the same window Hinata got in.  
Kunimi didn’t do anything.  
He didn’t chase after them, or try to attack.

Because he knew.  
And Kageyama knew that he knew.

Neither looked back.  
Neither asked questions, despite both having them.

Kageyama only had one place to go to.

Luckily for him, Hinata was very light.  
When reaching the forest, he’d stopped crying, and just held onto Kageyama, his head resting on his shoulder.

“Yachi!”  
Kageyama called out for her, his voice still showing traces of strain.  
“Hitoka, I--”

Leaning against a tree, his palms sweaty and eyes skittish, looking for danger in every blow of the wind.  
He felt his breathing quickening, his body shivering.

Hinata still hadn’t let go of him, and Kageyama couldn’t carry him anymore.  
His vision partially obscured, he didn’t notice the slope in front of him.

His foot slipped, and that was all it took for both of them to tumble down the grassy hill.  
Coming to a stop at the bottom, Kageyama could feel the bumps already forming all over his body, as he’d protected Hinata’s with his own.

He glanced up.

Fire all around them.  
The trees were replaced by a wall of scorching flames.

Exactly like his nightmares.  
The nightmare Kageyama thought had gone away, after it stopped appearing when he spent the past few weeks with Yachi.  
The nightmare that had started when he met Hinata.

He felt tugging on his sleeve.  
Kageyama blinked.

The fire was gone.  
Replaced again by the large trees and the last sun of the day, the singing of birds all around them offering peaceful calmness.

Underneath him, Hinata’s hazel eyes looked back into his own.

Helpless.  
Hurt.  
Impotent.

“It’s okay,” Kageyama mumbled.  
“Nothing can hurt us here.”

“Tobio!”  
Yachi slid down the hill they just rolled down from.  
“W-what happened--”

Moving out of the way, he showed her Hinata, clinging to him like a lifeline-- asleep.  
Hinata had fallen asleep.

They must both look horrible, Kageyama realised.  
By now, strangulation marks around his neck would have formed, together with the bloody laceration.  
Red eyes, tears.

“Oh my god--” she whispered, bending down to one knee next to Kageyama.  
Her trembling hand reached out and touched Hinata’s warm forehead.

Her eyes flickered over to Kageyama’s neck.  
“. . . Let’s quickly go, follow me,” she said softly, standing up again.

So many questions.  
She’d ask them all later.

It took them a while to find a way to get Hinata up in Yachi’s hideout as well.  
It was a slow process of just really careful and slow climbing, Yachi as a safety net to catch Hinata would Kageyama not manage.

But he managed.

Crawling onto the plateau, Kageyama simply refused for even one second to let go of Hinata, cradling him to his chest.

Settling down, Yachi handed him a blanket, draping it over his and Hinata’s bodies.

The water soon boiled, and a few minutes later, both had a cup of herb water.  
Kageyama had calmed down somewhat, yet his fingers still trembled as he held the hot cup.  
Slowly sipping at first, then gulping it down.

Yachi patiently waited, sitting cross-legged across from them.

Kageyama inhaled the scent of this place.  
He left two hours ago, and here he was, back once more.

“I got ambushed,” he then said, “By Kindaichi. I don’t know how he found out, I-- maybe he saw me leave before, and. . . I don’t know. But he knew where I was.”

Yachi pointed at her own neck with a questioning tilt of her head, and Kageyama nodded.  
“Yeah, he did that. Nearly killed me.”

He cast his eyes downward, to Hinata.  
“. . . For some reason, Hinata knew I was dying. . . or something. He said he felt my fear.”

“Oh, I know what he means,” Yachi nodded, “I’ve had that before, too. It’s the same kind of feeling that leads me to check out the forest to see if you’re around.”

Kageyama took a deep breath.

“Hinata killed him.”

Yachi’s mouth fell open into an o-shape.

“H-he also said-- that he remembered. Everything. You, me, Kitagawa Daiichi. . .”

When Yachi didn’t say anything, Kageyama glanced up.

Tears were rolling down her cheeks, silently.  
Tears of pure relief.  
Clenching her cup tightly, her bottom lip trembled.

“R-really? Tobio, does he really?”

He swallowed, then nodded.

Yachi smiled, wiping away her tears with one hand, her fingers catching the droplets.

“Seems like worrying on your own didn’t work out again,” she laughed softly, tears still rolling down her face.  
But they were happy tears.

“Shut it,” Kageyama grumbled softly, resting his head on top of Hinata’s.  
“. . . How was I supposed to know. . .”

Yachi then shuffled over towards them, barely fitting underneath the blanket --even with her small frame-- as she settled on Kageyama’s other side.  
“Doesn’t this bring back memories?”

They’d slept like this together so many times so many years ago.  
After a day of playing, running and training.  
Michimiya would find them time and time again, huddled underneath a blanket together, even though they had their own beds.

“Only now we don’t fit anymore.”  
Kageyama stated the obvious.

Resting her head against his shoulder, making herself comfortable, she hummed.  
“What are you going to do now?”

“. . . Have a good talk with Hinata. Listen to what he wants, and do exactly that,” he replied, his eyes falling shut.

“. . . I don’t care anymore, about anything else.”

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


It wasn’t until it had already turned dark outside that the door slammed open, and Kunimi stormed inside the mansion.

Iwaizumi had been dozing off with Oikawa’s fingers stroking through his hair, but both nearly fell out of the chair at the sudden loud noise.

From across them, on the couch, Hanamaki merely rose an eyebrow, looking up from his book.  
Matsukawa rose up from the same couch, giving Kunimi a good look-over.

Absolutely fuming with anger.  
Eyes livid.  
Gritting his teeth, lips trembling.  
Hair flat and sticking to his face.

Nobody had ever, _ever_ seen Kunimi like this.  
They all had a storm coming, but one person in particular was going to feel the thunder.

Stomping over to the hearth and the chair, Kunimi pointed his index finger straight at Oikawa, who stared back at him in utter surprise.  
Iwaizumi scrambled up to frown, squinting his eyes slightly.

One glance around the room, and he knew that everyone realised Kindaichi wasn’t going to follow Kunimi through that door.

“This is _your_ fault!”

Oikawa’s eyes widened slightly-- clueless, still.  
His eyebrows lowered, confused.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Matsukawa stayed where he was, only glancing between Kunimi and Oikawa.  
He was not in a million years going to step in with Kunimi in this rare state.

A closer look at Kunimi revealed more hints.

Said index finger had vague traces of red, and his pants --his knees especially-- soaked in blood.

Iwaizumi was going to wait, too, before saying anything.  
He felt Oikawa gripping the fabric of his shirt.

“You _lied_ to us! Guess what, everyone, Kageyama’s still alive and kicking!”

A gasp came from the stairs, and Yahaba looked down upon them with widened eyes.  
He scurried down the stairs, closely followed by Kyoutani.  
“What?!”

“Is he right, Oikawa?” Hanamaki asked calmly, polar opposite of the trembling Kunimi.

Oikawa swallowed.  
He exchanged a glance with Iwaizumi, who gave him a look back.

_Just tell them._

Oikawa looked away.  
Then nodded.  
Kunimi gave a triumphant, demeaning laugh.

Kunimi never laughed.

“. . . Tobio-chan’s still alive. He and I made a deal.”

Matsukawa was too blown away by this revelation to say anything, Hanamaki --as always-- looked like he already knew, even if he didn’t .

“What the fuck?!” Kyoutani sputtered, scowling in pure disbelief, his eyes sharper than usual.  
“Why?!”

Iwaizumi’s hand found Oikawa’s, softly squeezing.  
He knew Oikawa had his reasons for not telling, and he was told those reasons weeks ago.  
But it’s not like he couldn’t understand the other’s reactions.

Kunimi bit his lip, until it bled.

“He made a friend, Oikawa.”

Nobody was tired anymore.

“What. . . do you mean?”

Kunimi took a step closer, now standing right in front of Oikawa --and Iwaizumi-- looking down on them.

“That Karasuno ginger shrimp,” he spat.  
“Without that guy, the world would’ve been a better fucking place.”

Everyone in the room had an inkling of the implications.  
And none of them wanted to believe it until they heard it straight from Kunimi’s mouth.

Kunimi threw his hands in the air, shaking his head, fresh tears threatening to fall.

Kunimi never cried.

“He’s dead, _Oikawa_. The ginger killed him to defend Kageyama.”

Only the crackling of the fire and the howling wind sounded.  
All eyes were on Oikawa, who in turn stared into nothingness.

Then all hell broke loose.

“What the fuck?! Oikawa!”  
“No way. . .”  
“How-- how did this happen. . . ?”  
“It wasn’t Kageyama who killed--?!”  
“Why, Oikawa?!”  
“You could’ve prevented this, if you just--”  
“How did Kindaichi know about Kageyama?”  
“ _Oh my god_ \--”  
“What happened?!”  
“Why did you hide it from us, Oikawa?”

Huddled up in a ball, covering his ears with both his hands, Oikawa continued to stare with glazed over eyes.  
Processing.  
Determining if his friends were right or not.  
If he was at fault or not.

A second pair of warm hands covered Oikawa’s.

“Shut up! All of you, shut up!”  
Iwaizumi screamed at them.  
And effectively got rid of the white noise of voices that Oikawa listened to.

“Will you calm the fuck down?” Iwaizumi hissed, his hands pressing a little tighter.  
“Sit down and let’s _talk_.”

It took a minute, but eventually everyone including Kunimi settled down somewhere.  
Some were disappointed.  
Angry.  
Confused.

But all were grieving silently, too worked up to cry, for now.

Iwaizumi removed his hands from Oikawa’s, and very slowly, Oikawa removed his own, too.  
He looked horrible.  
His posture was that of a cornered animal, driven away.

Hanamaki, the calmest of them all by a long shot, finally broke the newfound silence.  
“Let’s figure this all out first. Then we’ll mourn.”

Iwaizumi agreed.  
Right now, it was like everyone had a different piece of the puzzle, and they had to put it together to paint the right picture of what happened.

Kunimi’s scowl didn’t leave his face, but it had softened.

Oikawa refused to look into anyone’s eyes.

“First things first. Kindaichi has been consistently leaving, alone, for the past couple of weeks now. I know this because I’ve seen him doing so a few times,” Hanamaki said.  
“And yes, I did confront him about it. Multiple times.”

He paused.  
“But he wouldn’t let anything on, and he continued to go out.”

“I’ve seen him leave a few times too,” Yahaba added.  
“Same story. Wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“I think we can safely assume Kindaichi knew Kageyama was still alive, and tried to look for him.”

Mutual agreement across the board.

“Iwaizumi, you didn’t seem too surprised about Kageyama’s status. Did you know?”  
Matsukawa, sharp as ever.

Iwaizumi nodded.  
“I knew about it. Oikawa told me on the first day of his return.”

He nudged Oikawa’s side.  
“C’mon. Tell them.”

Oikawa still hadn’t fully recovered from the attack on his psyche.  
It had been an attack.  
Unintentionally, but still.  
The tables and the atmosphere had turned so rapidly, and everyone was against him, and he had felt his grip on himself slipping--

“. . . I met him when leading that herd, back a few weeks ago. I was just as surprised to see him alive, but. . .”  
He finally looked up.  
“As much as it fucking _pains_ me to admit, without him, I would’ve lost it. Being followed by a herd, the potential of dying and failing to lead the herd away so close, constantly, looking around and trying to find the source of every sound--”

Oikawa felt his heartbeat quickening, but took a deep breath.  
He controlled it again.

“He made sure I could safely shoot the final bullet. I. . . He asked if he could live on the border, you know. . . in Johzenji’s old hideout. With the promise to never let himself be seen by anyone.”

His tongue flicked across his lips.  
“I agreed.”

Matsukawa breathed a sigh he had been holding.  
“. . . Okay. Okay, I can. . . I can accept that. That decision.”

Oh, those words meant so much.  
Oikawa swallowed once more and blinked his tears away, nodding softly.  
He knew he looked pathetic.

The next to nod was Yahaba.  
“Me too. I think that was the right choice, what else should you have done? Just kill him right then and there, even if he helped you? No way.”

Hanamaki hummed in agreement.

Since Yahaba agreed, Kyoutani huffed softly, some semblance of accepting it, too.

Oikawa relaxed a bit, Iwaizumi reassuring arm around his shoulder.  
“. . . I thought it’d just be better for everyone to be unaware of the fact he was still alive. It would cause unnecessary tension, when we could just go about our lives without ever coming across Tobio.”

“Good. Next, why was Kindaichi so set on finding Kageyama?”

“. . . He wanted to kill him.”  
Kunimi spoke up.  
“I’m sure you all know, but Yuutarou was even more aware of Kageyama than you, Oikawa.”

The venom in his voice was more or less gone.  
It was replaced by sorrow and defeat.

When nobody said a word, all looking at him, Kunimi sighed.  
“. . . I followed Kindaichi from afar today. He indeed entered into Johzenji’s place, but didn’t come out for a while. Then, half an hour later. . . Kageyama arrived.”

Kunimi clenched his jaw.  
“By then I figured out Kindaichi had been waiting for that very moment. So I didn’t do anything. Kindaichi would definitely have the upper hand, if he ambushed Kageyama.”

Sharp air intake.  
“But not even a few minutes later, this fast, orange-haired little guy comes sprinting out of nowhere, straight towards the old hotel. Went inside. Nobody came out.”

He cast his eyes downward, regret forming.  
“. . . I got worried. So I went to check it out. Met them while they were on their way downstairs.”

Yahaba let out a shaky breath, biting his bottom lip.

“That ginger was crying, holding onto Kageyama like he was only thing keeping him alive. Kageyama had bruises around his neck, and I think a knife wound too. _We locked eyes for a second_.”

Covering his face, Kunimi’s voice turned uneven, hitched.  
“And I just _knew_. He wasn’t the one who-- in the end, he didn’t--”

Tears slipped over the edge, and he cried out loud.  
Not holding anything back.  
His pained moans cut through everyone’s mask.

“-- that little f-fucking kid shot an arrow through his head.”

Was this a trade for what they had done to Karasuno?

Word had reached them that the leader of Karasuno, Ukai Keishin, had died because of the herd.  
Because of Oikawa Tooru.  
Because of Aobajohsai.

Because of Shiratorizawa.

Was this karma?

Once again, everyone had returned to silence.  
Nobody said a word, and hasn’t for the past thirty minutes.

Some cried.  
Some mourned in silence.  
Some forced the grief away.

All felt the loss of a friend, a member of their family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	14. Crumbling Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, who is at fault?
> 
> Also, confrontations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up, from now on chapters may be a bit later than usual because I may or may not have been writing and rewriting the plot for the last chapters over and over again.  
> The ending is in sight.  
> But not really there's still like at least three chapters--

“Just don’t let go, and you’ll be fine.”

Shirabu watched on from the shadows cast by the tree as Semi carefully took a step backwards.  
Patiently waiting, and then finally, _finally_ , Akaashi followed him.

Semi had the nerve to smile excitedly.  
He hadn’t smiled like that in so long.  
Not with Shiratorizawa.  
Not with Shirabu.

He took an angry bite out of his apple, his expression one of disgust, even if the apple tasted delicious.

The unlikely trio reached the edge of Fukurodani’s forest in the late afternoon, slowed down somewhat because Semi insisted on trying to see if Akaashi could walk by himself yet.  
He couldn’t, and that’s why a couple of hours later, right now, they were taking a break into an open field in the forest.

They ran into a few Walkers before too, but Shirabu had mowed them down easily.  
The perks of owning guns.

It wasn’t all that bad.  
The weather was nice, they had packed enough food for a day or three, and they were almost at Fukurodani’s.

Still.  
That ugly feeling in the pit of Shirabu’s stomach resurfaced every time he as much as glanced at Akaashi and Semi.

Akaashi’s complexion was just as bad, of course, but they let him eat increasingly more, slowly, and his energy had returned.  
He looked a bit more healthy.

The month-long isolation had done more harm than that, though.  
Akaashi hadn’t seen a person in weeks.  
Hadn’t talked to a person in weeks.  
Hadn’t been exposed to colors and smells and touch and vision-- in weeks.

Shirabu already classified Akaashi to be the quiet type before, but the isolation had made it worse.  
He hadn’t said a word yet, this entire time.  
Sometimes, a few noises.  
Of agreement or discomfort.

Shirabu was effectively irritated.  
Yes, he agreed to take Akaashi with them.  
Yes, he had felt a tiny bit guilty thinking about leaving him behind.  
Yes, Semi had been completely focused on Akaashi the whole day.

No, he was not in the wrong for feeling annoyed.

A hoot of excitement sounded, and Shirabu grumpily looked back up.

Without the help of Semi, Akaashi _stood on his own_ , after hours of resembling a helpless child more than a grown man.  
Then took a step.  
Another.

And nearly tumbled down, had Semi not caught him in time.

He _was_ in the wrong for feeling annoyed.

Why were his thoughts so mean?  
It wasn’t fair, calling someone a _child_ after he was literally isolated from the entire world for weeks--

But everything was thrown out of the window when he saw the tiniest smile appearing on Akaashi’s face, as Semi triumphantly laughed.

As a last resort to channel his anger, Shirabu threw the apple core into the bushes far away.

A shadow loomed over Shirabu.  
Semi carefully set Akaashi on his left while he joined Shirabu on his right.

Shirabu stole another glance at the black-haired man.  
A lot less pale, and his eyes seemed to be that of a living person again.  
Semi handed him a piece of fish and an apple, before finally, finally focusing his attention on his grumpy lover.

“It’s finally really _real_ , huh?”  
“It’s been really real for the past hours.”  
“C’mon Kenji, you know what I mean.”

Shirabu did, but that doesn’t mean he was going to swallow his irritation.

Now that they were away from Shiratorizawa, Semi instantly became a lot happier.  
More carefree-- or just more free in general.  
Still, it was hard to believe.

They severed all ties.  
Nobody could force them to do anything anymore.  
He and Semi could do whatever they wanted.

Well. . . after Akaashi was safe and secure with his group again.

Shirabu decided he was going to be nice to Semi for once.  
He’s always been the least affectionate out of them, yet the most needy too; Semi’s words, not his.

Semi was humming softly, Akaashi nibbled on the food in silence, and Shirabu subtly shifted his weight.  
Very slowly, he slid closer towards Semi, tilted his head a bit, wanting to rest against the ash blonde and bask in his scent--

Semi jumped up out of the shadow of the tree, and stretched his arms above his head.

Shirabu lost his balance and nearly fell over, in shock, but quickly leaned backwards.  
He couldn’t believe it.  
Here he was, trying to indulge Semi for a bit, and then this happens.

“Let’s continue-- Kenjirou, what are you doing?”

Shirabu showed Semi the angriest glare he knew.  
Pursing his lips, Shirabu then too, scrambled to his feet and crossed his arms.  
“. . . Nothing. Let’s go.”

Semi didn’t even attempt to pry, desensitized to Shirabu’s mood swings.  
He just shrugged, and helped Akaashi up.

Marching in front of them --Akaashi had to hold onto Semi’s arm still, for support, but he could walk on his own-- Shirabu was going to sulk in silence.

He knew the way to Fukurodani.  
He caught himself feeling very relieved knowing they were nearly there.

Though also a bit wary.  
Fukurodani. . . would not take kindly to two former Shiratorizawa members walking in.  
Then again, they had Akaashi.  
They wouldn’t be dumb enough to just kill them, right?

All the way, Shirabu refused to talk with Semi, and Semi simply accepted that as a fact of life.  
Even if Shirabu felt a bit lonely.  
He was aware it was childish, and indeed, needy, and _stupid--_

The further they went into the forest, the more damage to nature they found.  
The fire from weeks ago had really burned down a large part of the forest, yet Shirabu saw that new grass and flowers already started to peek out through the black blanket of ashes on the ground.

It had solely been Tendou’s idea to set a herd on fire, surprise surprise.

Semi had gone back to carrying Akaashi on his back again, as the latter’s knees had given away one too many times.

Akaashi himself became more and more aware of everything.  
He’d felt so empty, back in the isolation cell.  
He had wanted to die.

Akaashi had just wanted to die.

But then the cell door opened.  
He instantly recognized Semi Eita, and had wanted to _cry_ , and stand up, and talk-- but he couldn’t.  
His body didn’t allow any of that.

Because it’s not like Akaashi had completely lost his mind, despite Goshiki’s words.  
More a case of _extreme_ numbing of all his senses.  
He literally hadn’t been able to move.  
He just watched, so afraid, that Semi would turn back around and leave again.

He didn’t, and instead started to carry Akaashi on his back, without any questions.

Akaashi was tired.  
He thought of Fukurodani.  
About Bokuto.  
He missed them all so much, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to properly voice it.

Hours ago he didn’t think he’d ever see them again, but now. . .  
He understood Semi and Shirabu were actually making an effort to bring him back to Fukurodani.

Akaashi closed his eyes.  
He listened to birds, the rustling of the leaves in the breeze, and felt the warm sun shining onto his face.  
He listened to Semi’s breathing, to Shirabu’s stomping.

Akaashi wasn’t going to question why the two rescued him.  
It didn’t matter if they were from Shiratorizawa; they’d made it clear they weren’t, anymore.  
Semi and Shirabu were now groupless humans, wanderers.

He wasn’t going to deny he wasn’t curious to know what they were planning on doing after dropping him off.  
He might ask.  
He might not.

Akaashi dozed off.  
That is, until he heard a surprised gasp.  
He opened his eyes, staring over Semi’s shoulder.

It looked just like he remembered it.  
One treehouse left.  
A bit or regrown weeds here and there.

Except there was nobody around.  
It was silent.  
Abandoned.

Akaashi swallowed.

“Did they. . . leave?”  
Shirabu stepped into the clearing, cautious.  
“. . . Huh. . .”

“I honestly didn’t even think of that,” Semi mumbled, adjusting his grip on Akaashi a bit.  
“Akaashi, do you know where they could’ve gone?”

The addressed shook his head.  
It didn’t look like any fighting had taken place.  
But something must’ve happened that made them leave.

Shirabu had his guns ready, as he approached the one standing treehouse.  
Semi set Akaashi down onto a tree stump in the middle of the clearing; they always used to eat dinner together here, around a campfire.

Semi started pacing around, a frown on his face, thinking.  
Where to go next?  
Where the fuck did Fukurodani disappear to?

Shirabu’s head peeked out of one of the windows of the treehouse.  
“Nothing here. It’s dusty, so I’m thinking they must’ve left at least a week ago.”

“Oh, fantastic,” Semi grumbled.  
This was a problem.  
“Anything that points to where they went?”

Akaashi’s eye fell onto something on the ground, in the dirt, in front of him.  
Scribbles in the sand, barely eligible.  
When he looked better, he saw there was much more of it all around him.

Lines, squares and arrows, but also words.  
Most were inintelligible.

Semi had strayed away, checking the area, into the bushes and the burnt trees.  
Shirabu’s head popped out once more.  
“Still nothing. They better not have left Tokyo, or something, or else--”

He climbed back down out of the treehouse, joining Semi’s side, sticking close.

Akaashi tried to decipher the handwriting.  
He hadn’t been useful at all, and it irked him, that he couldn’t do anything to help Semi, Shirabu and himself on their way.

Squinting at the scribbles, he almost fell backwards in shock when realised something very, very important.

Akaashi was the only person from Fukurodani who could write.

Someone else not from Fukurodani joined them here.  
Made these scribblings.  
But who?

He started connecting the dots in a rapid pace, everything falling into place.  
Fukurodani had one ally, who could march into this forest and not be killed on sight.  
Who Bokuto would be willing to talk to.  
Who are their friends.

Akaashi opened his mouth, but no sound came out.  
He wanted to call out for Semi, get his attention to look at this, and tell them his findings--

Akaashi had never been more frustrated in his whole life than right now.  
Even Bokuto didn’t get him this worked up.

He wished he talked more to himself, back in the isolation cell.  
Just so that he wouldn’t forget.  
But back then he thought he’d never get out, so he hadn’t bothered.

It felt like his throat was stuck, as if it were filled up with sand, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth.

“. . . Se. . .”  
His own voice surprised him.  
A whisper.  
Hoarse and rough.  
But it was a start.

The second syllable of Semi’s name, though, just would not form.  
His tongue felt tied, constricting him.

Akaashi decided to try again later.

Instead, he started to frantically wave at Semi and Shirabu, urgently, hoping they’d notice him.

Shirabu did.  
After a few excruciatingly long seconds, he nudged Semi’s arm, and mumbled something.

Semi swished around and met Akaashi’s gaze.  
He gestured for Shirabu to follow, and both walked over back to the fire place.

Semi sat down on one of the logs, casting Akaashi a curious glance.

Akaashi eyed a branch on the ground, and snatched it.  
He pointed it at the scribbles, and the other two caught on.

“Oh, those are definitely human made,” Semi mumbled, “Fukurodani had to have done that, then. . . Maybe it was them discussing their plans before they left, or something?”

Akaashi shook his head.  
Not Fukurodani.

Shirabu kept his gaze fixed on Akaashi, his eyes narrowed.  
“No? You know who made these inscriptions?”

Akaashi nodded.

“Can you write?” Semi asked.

Of course.   
He nodded again, to both Semi and Shirabu’s relief.

Akaashi started to write into the mud.  
Thank god he still knew how to write to begin with, though his handwriting was a bit wobbly and uneven.

Shirabu looked at Semi.

The latter bent over to look at what Akaashi had written.  
“‘Nekoma’?”

“Oh, you think someone from Nekoma wrote this all down? Nekoma and Fukurodani are allies, right?” Semi asked, and Akaashi nodded.

Akaashi realised Shirabu couldn’t read.

“Nekoma’s halved in numbers. . . because of us,” Shirabu mumbled.  
Shirabu remembered.  
He’d killed Kai Nobuyuki himself.

So Shiratorizawa had already attacked Nekoma before.  
Akaashi sighed softly.  
That means there’d be only four of Nekoma left.

“Maybe they decided to seek help by Fukurodani, and discussed. . . whatever the scribbles are about?”

Akaashi thought so, too.

“I am. . . really sorry, by the way,” Semi mumbled, his hand resting on Akaashi’s shoulder for a second.  
“. . . For everything that you lost because of Shiratorizawa.”

Akaashi gave him a reassuring nod.  
It was fine.  
Because Akaashi had already realised how Shiratorizawa operated.

Ushijima lead the group, decided _who_ and _what_ and _when_ , while Tendou decided _how._  
The other members simply followed their lead, did what had to be done, and went back to their daily lives.

Ushijima and Tendou were the ones Akaashi really had it out for.

He always saw every human as morally grey.  
Nobody was only good, nobody was only bad.

Akaashi could argue Oikawa Tooru was morally grey, that Sawamura Daichi was morally grey, Kuroo Tetsurou was morally grey, Bokuto Koutarou was morally grey and Akaashi Keiji was morally grey.

It was only logical, it made sense.  
Sacrifices on both ends of the spectrum, one worse than another, for family, for friends, for people they care about.

Yet. . .  
Ushijima Wakatoshi and Tendou Satori were bad people.

Akaashi hated them.  
He really did.  
But he wasn’t one for mindless, impulsive anger; his anger was rational and controlled.  
So that he never lost sight of himself.

“How is Fukurodani and Nekoma’s relationship with Karasuno?”

Shirabu posed an interesting question.

Akaashi wrote down an ‘F’, ‘N’ and a ‘K’ in a triangle, indicating with arrows whether they got along well.

Of course, Fukurodani and Nekoma went along great.  
Fukurodani-Karasuno was neutral, neither enemy nor ally.  
Nekoma-Karasuno, well. . . 

He knew what Kuroo had done.

Nekoma-Karasuno’s relationship was bad.

“Interesting,” Semi hummed.

“Why?”

“ _Because_ , Kenji, we know neither Fukurodani nor Nekoma is dumb or weak in any way. What would you do if. . . let’s say. . . Me and Akaashi were killed by. . . let’s say. . . Nekoma, within a month and with no apparent reason why?”

Semi paused.

“No previous fights.”  
He counted on his fingers.  
“No bad blood.”  
“Living in peace for years.”  
“No allying with their enemies.”

Shirabu’s hands curled up into fists on his lap.  
“. . . I would want to kill them all.”

He didn’t want to think about Semi dying.  
But he couldn’t help it, even if it was just a theoretical situation.

There was no reason to go on if Semi wasn’t there.

He bit his lip.

A soft brush against his cheek made him glance up.  
Semi’s hand cupped said cheek, his expression unreadable.

It truly scared Shirabu more than anything.  
When he couldn’t understand Semi.

“Don’t think too much about it. . .”  
“Y-you-- you brought it up!”  
“It was just an example.”  
“Use another example!”

A strong, warm arm wrapped around Shirabu, pulling him closer.  
At first, he wanted to wriggle out of Semi’s grip --Akaashi was not even a meter away from them-- but quickly gave up.

Who cares.

Shirabu huddled closer, allowing Semi spoil him.

“Let’s stay here overnight,” Semi decided.  
“We can figure out what to do next tomorrow morning.”

Both Akaashi and Shirabu gladly agreed.

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


“Oikawa.”

No reply.

“Tooru.”

Huddled on top of his own bed, a blanket around his shoulders, Oikawa merely glanced at Iwaizumi.  
His arms wrapped around his knees, the two had locked themselves up in Oikawa’s room, this time.

When Iwaizumi was sure Oikawa wasn’t planning on talking to him, he focused his attention on the old, dented _soundbox_ on top of the nightstand.  
Oikawa wasn’t one for collecting items they found when scavenging, but this old thing had caught his attention.  
So he stole it out of a shop window.

Could it really be called stealing, though?

Rusted, dented, and it only played one song on repeat.  
If Iwaizumi could get it to work, that is.

It was probably the most coolest thing Aobajohsai owned, in Iwaizumi’s opinion.  
A song, words spoken by someone from perhaps centuries ago.

Nobody had any idea what all the extra buttons did, but the most important ones to remember were the tiny button to switch it on, and the ones that could change the volume.

Iwaizumi tinkered around for a bit.  
He felt Oikawa’s eyes following him around, burning a hole in his back.

After the grueling discovery of Kindaichi’s death and the backlash Oikawa received for it, the latter retreated into his bedroom in silence.  
Iwaizumi knew better than anyone else, how insecure Oikawa often felt.  
Even if he put up a front fooling everyone else, Iwaizumi saw he blamed himself for Kindaichi’s death.

It wasn’t his fault.  
Too many elements had come into play for this tragedy to happen.  
It wasn’t. . .

But words weren’t coming through to Oikawa, right now.  
And Iwaizumi never claimed to be good with words anyway, so he thought of another way to get Oikawa to calm down.

Physically, the man was calm, yes.  
But in his mind raged a storm.

After minutes of silence and getting absolutely nowhere, Iwaizumi nearly threw the soundbox across the room in frustration.  
He set it back down in defeat instead, sighing.

The fuzzy first few notes started playing.  
The sound cleared up a few seconds later, changing into a slow-paced, dreamy tune.

Eternally grateful, Iwaizumi turned around, facing Oikawa once again.  
Chocolate eyes continued to watch, not breaking eye contact with Iwaizumi.

It felt like time stood still around them.

“Dance with me.”

Oikawa bit down on his soft bottom lip, silently shaking his head.

Iwaizumi bent down in front of him, his knees resting on the floorboards.  
His hands gently took Oikawa’s, unwrapping them from around his knees.

“Tooru, dance with me.”

He stood back up, softly pulling Oikawa with him.  
The blanket slipped off his shoulders, his feet with two different colored socks tapping onto the floor.

Iwaizumi coaxed him into his arms, Oikawa’s hand in his, the other around his waist-- Oikawa’s free hand resting on Iwaizumi’s chest.

Oikawa might be taller than Iwaizumi, but it didn’t matter when his head rested heavily on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

And so they swayed along to the notes.

The song was already halfway done, but it didn’t matter.  
Just like it didn’t matter that neither knew how to dance properly.

Iwaizumi hummed along, having heard this song so many times before.  
Wetness stuck to his collarbone, he didn’t need to look to know Oikawa was crying.  
Kindaichi's death hit him harder than he let on.

Oikawa softly hiccuped, as the song started a new loop.  
He listened to the reverberations, the deep rumbling in Iwaizumi’s chest, as he hummed the rest of the verse.

How many repeats they already went through, neither had a clue.  
The song served as a background noise more than anything, as Iwaizumi rubbed slow circles on Oikawa’s back.

“What are we going to do?”

Glancing down at Oikawa, Iwaizumi reached up and wiped a stray tears off his cheek, before answering.  
“What options do we have?”

“Don’t answer with another question,” Oikawa huffed, puffing out his cheeks.  
“. . . I think we’ve made too many enemies, Hajime.”

Looking back at the past month, Iwaizumi recounted how gradually, everything had gotten worse.  
First they lost Shido and almost Yahaba, then that gigantic herd and nearly losing Oikawa, now Kindaichi was killed by Karasuno.

Their rivalry with Shiratorizawa was natural, they’ve been enemies ever since Iwaizumi could remember.  
Yet, they could barely keep up, only just being able to match them.

Shiratorizawa, overbearing and at the top.  
With the most skilled survivors they knew of.  
Deaths were mutual; Aobajohsai has killed many of Shiratorizawa, and vice versa.

But now Karasuno was onto them as well.

“The power in Tokyo is shifting,” Iwaizumi realised out loud, frowning slightly.  
“Shiratorizawa wants to wipe out all other groups, clearly. Perhaps, because. . .”

“. . . They suffered too many losses in the last few years,” Oikawa finished.  
“Four died in two years. Now there’s only five of them left, too.”

The first to successfully attack would have the upper hand.  
Key word ‘successfully’.  
One would have to traverse into another group’s unknown territory, and if they were even spotted once, the defending group would have the upper hand.

“Ushiwaka’s afraid,” Oikawa said, “If he waits any longer, if he keeps the peace with other groups in Tokyo for any longer, he’ll soon have nothing left.”

“So. . . you’re saying he’s trying to wipe out everyone else before he is the last one standing, perhaps only accompanied by Tendou?”

“Morbid, isn’t it?”  
Oikawa’s whispered voice trembled in something in between excitement and melancholy.  
“He wants to take as many down with him while he can.”

“Shiratorizawa’s falling apart.”

“Exactly.”

“You know something I don’t.”

Oikawa licked his lips, a telltale sign that Iwaizumi had guessed right.  
They broke away from each other, not bothering to switch off the soundbox, and moved towards Oikawa’s bed.

“I do. Makki and Mattsun’s last expedition. I’ve been suspicious of Fukurodani and Nekoma, see. . .”

A riled up Oikawa was much better than a depressed one, so Iwaizumi secretly basked in this change of pace.  
Besides, he knew very well their leader was onto something.  
Shiratorizawa had been acting too out of place not to notice.

“I asked them to survey the border between Karasuno and Nekoma for a couple of days at a time,” Oikawa revealed, to Iwaizumi’s surprise.

So that’s why Matsukawa and Hanamaki would be gone for a few days, returning empty-handed, only to go out again a day later.

Iwaizumi hadn’t thought much of it, because Oikawa would tell him if it were important.  
With two of their members missing for days straight, it meant Aobajohsai had to make use of their food stock, but nothing too bad.

“They did what?! That’s--”  
“I know it could’ve been dangerous, but listen, Iwa-chan.”  
“. . . Fine.”  
“Nekoma and Fukurodani have merged. According to Makki, there were only eight of them. They didn’t have to come close to check. Bokuto and Kuroo stand out, as you know.”  
“What--”  
“And they were on their way into Karasuno territory.”

Iwaizumi blinked.  
“. . . How did you know this was going to happen?”

“I didn’t _know_ , silly Iwa-chan. It’s called logical reasoning sprinkled with a bit of guesswork.”

Iwaizumi raised both his eyebrows, Oikawa ignored it.

“See, we know for a fact Shiratorizawa has attacked Nekoma. And we can guess that Fukurodani’s forest was set on fire or something, if the smoke clouds looming over the city for days told us anything.”

Oikawa never ceased to surprise Iwaizumi.

“We also know they’re really out trying to get us this time, too. Back then, that was largest herd we’ve ever seen, Hajime, and you know it. Had we not succeeded in diverting it, we may not have all died, but we’d have to battle a full herd. Karasuno only dealt with like, sixty percent of the original amount of Walkers.”

“Right, right. No doubt Nekoma and Fukurodani would want Shiratorizawa to pay. They wouldn’t let Ushijima walk all over them without returning the favor.”

Falling backwards, with his head landing on the pillow, Oikawa nodded.  
“So, then I thought. . . Nekoma used to have an alliance with Karasuno. Even though Karasuno used to be at the bottom, due to Fukurodani and Nekoma’s losses, they’re now right underneath us, under Aobajohsai.”

“And because of your shitty attitude, they wouldn’t want to ask us for help or alliances.”

“Exact-- Hey! No, Iwa-chan!”

“The only way to reach Karasuno without traversing through our territory is through Nekoma’s, so you decided to have Hanamaki and Matsukawa survey that border.” 

Oikawa squealed in delight.  
“And I was _right!_ Praise me!”

“Yeah yeah, good job. Really.”

Oikawa laughed in satisfaction for a long, long while, then turned serious again with a loud sigh.  
“I predict Nekoma, Fukurodani and Karasuno are going to form an alliance.”

“And you’re scared they’re going to go after us?”

Now Iwaizumi was fed up with the song, and moved over to switch off the soundbox-- otherwise known as a radio.

“Not _scared_. I just think that yes, they will come after us. It’s quite obvious that Karasuno knows we caused that herd to go into their territory, and we’ve had past bad blood with Nekoma, too.”

Absentmindedly tapping Oikawa’s leg with his fingers, Iwaizumi thought about what this all meant.  
Oikawa stayed silent too, presumably doing the same.

“If your theory is right, then we’re trapped between Shiratorizawa and Nekoma-Fukurodani-Karasuno,” Iwaizumi concluded.

“We either wait for them to come to us, or we go on the offense ourselves. We are literally trapped in between two evils, Iwa-chan!”

“. . . If we engage in a fight with either, we risk losses that were unnecessary, especially in N-F-K’s case. They might not be after us. Remember, that guy from Karasuno killed. . . killed Kindaichi because he tried to off Kageyama. It might not be a threat towards us at all.”

Oikawa sat up, and pursed his lips.  
“. . . I know. I just have this feeling. . . something bad is going to happen to us. To you. To Makki, Mattsun, Kunimi, Kyouken-chan or Yahaba--”

With a sigh, Iwaizumi wrapped his arm around the Oikawa’s shoulder, and pulled him closer.  
“I think you’re underestimating Aobajohsai’s strength.”

Oikawa did not look convinced.

“Tooru, we’ll be fine. Whether we decide to attack first or decide to wait, we’re still a group, a family.”

“. . . Until everyone loses their confidence in me.”

Iwaizumi found Oikawa’s current behavior strange.  
Out of the ordinary.  
Oikawa often got worried and would overthink everything, but this was different.  
He’d always find a solution in the end.  
He listened to his mind, his heart, and took rational decisions-- sometimes with Iwaizumi’s help.

But for the first time in his life, it looked like Oikawa Tooru had no idea what to do.

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


“So, let me get this straight. You intrude in our territory. You waltz inside our hideout. You make yourself at home. And you need our help. Right?”

“That is undoubtedly correct,” Kuroo nodded, stretching his legs without a care in the world.

“Me and Hinata ran into them on our way back,” Suga said in a softer voice, though he had doubts about it all as well.  
“They didn’t. . . They just want to talk, Daichi.”

The leader of Karasuno crossed his arms, squinting at the group around the hearth.  
“And why,” he grumbled, “Do they think we wouldn’t kill them on the spot?”

“Because this shit involves Karasuno as well,” Kuroo answered.  
“Any strange occurrences happening lately? As in, occurrences that resulted into death?”

“We’ve had a gigantic herd pass through our territory, yes, but that was done by Oikawa Tooru.”

Kuroo shook his head slowly.  
“That herd wasn’t a natural one. It was created by our unfriendly neighborhood psycho, Tendou. Shiratorizawa did that to you.”

He paused, squinting his eyes.  
“Or, no. They did it to Aobajohsai, who then had to protect themselves and had no other option but to lead it away into your territory.”

“Wait, but, really, Oikawa did that? . . . Always knew he was a crazy bastard,” Konoha sounded mildly impressed.

“How did you know that’s what happened?” Suga asked, squinting his eyes.  
It sounded plausible, but the imagery of Oikawa and the gun made it difficult to believe.

“Me and. . . Akaashi saw it when we were on patrol,” Bokuto spoke up, “I mean, at first we only heard the noise of thousands of Walkers, so we were like, “Oh no, not a herd!” but then Akaashi said we should go up higher so we could see and so we did and we saw them--”

“Right,” Daichi interrupted, “Okay. Got it. And after that. . . they went on to kill half of Nekoma one by one, set a herd of Walkers on fire and burned down Fukurodani’s forest and took one of your people?”

Literally everyone --except members of Karasuno-- nodded in unison.

Daichi’s frown possibly lowered.  
He cast a glance towards Suga, who nervously bit his bottom lip.

“Why’s Shiratorizawa suddenly out to kill us all?” Tsukishima asked from out of his chair.  
He wasn’t too fond of the new arrivals.

Kuroo shrugged.  
“We have no idea. None of us did anything to provoke them, we don’t understand the sudden change either.”

“Why do you need our help?”  
Kiyoko’s voice sounded clear as day, speaking for the first time in this conversation.  
Her tone had an edge of suspicion to it.

“Yeah, ehm. . .”  
Kuroo bent forward a bit.  
“. . . We want to get rid of Shiratorizawa before they can do so to us. And to you, Karasuno.”

“You want to kill those five that are left? Ushijima, Tendou, Goshiki, Semi and Shirabu?”  
Daichi did not like where this was going.

“. . . Yes.”

“How the hell are you going to do that? Infiltrate the Centre? Alone, with a select few people, or everyone? How?!”

“Hey, hey, that’s what we wanted to discuss.”

“No.”

“What?”

“Karasuno’s not joining you.”

Kuroo sighed loudly.  
“C’mon, Sawamura, think about it--”

“I’ll let you stay here for a few days for your troubles of coming here, but then you leave again.”

Daichi held Kuroo’s gaze for what felt like minutes, until Kuroo finally threw his hands in the air, giving up for now.  
“. . . Right, okay. It’s to be expected.”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Kenma simply mumbled with a respectful nod towards Daichi, who, despite his frustration, managed to nod back.  
Kenma wasn’t surprised in any way --when was he ever-- because Karasuno didn’t owe them anything.  
In fact, it was Nekoma who owed _them_.

Bokuto covered his face with his hands, his shoulders slumping.  
Yukie took Kaori’s hand in her own, squeezing it softly.

Yaku shuffled over to sit next to Suga, and the two started talking in soft voices.  
They needed to catch up after years apart.

“. . . Where’d that shorty run off to?” Lev asked out loud.  
“You mean, Shouyou?”  
“That little ginger!”  
“Yeah, that’s Shouyou. He seemed to be in a hurry. . .” Kenma trailed, leaning back against Kuroo’s shoulder like a limp doll.

Kiyoko had joined Yukie and Kaori, offering them her comfort.

It took a bit, but slowly, the members of the different groups started to interact with each other, a welcome change from the tension Daichi and Kuroo’s open conversation created.

Said tension between the two, however, did not fully disappear.

  
  


**xxx**

  
  


His stomach hurt.  
He was hungry, but he didn’t really want to open his eyes.

The scent of roasted meat entered through his nostrils, though, finally tempting him to fully rouse.

Hinata had no idea where he was.  
The last memory he recalled was listening to Kageyama’s panicked breathing, his constricted pupils, and the change from Tokyo to the forest.

He noticed the blanket covering him first, then the aching in his back.  
He moved up a bit to sit straight up.

Wait a moment.  
Was he in a _tree_?

Running his hand along the branch to his side, the texture felt smooth.  
The thick packet of leaves a few metres above him blocked the sun, only small rays shining through.

The open space in front of him was decorated with various items.  
Pans, bottles, a heap of clothing, some rope, his own bow and arrows.

Even though Hinata had never seen this place before, he didn’t feel scared.  
It helped that he noticed Kageyama’s bag among the items in a corner.

A tiny fire trapped by various stones, with pieces of meat cooking on top of it.

And of course, the girl sitting in front of said fireplace, humming softly.

Her blonde hair shone in one of the sunrays, her soft voice familiar.  
Hinata instantly recognized her.

“. . . Hitoka?”

Her head instantly turned and met Hinata’s curious gaze.  
Smiling brightly, she quickly shuffled over towards Hinata, and nodded vigorously.

“S-Shouyou!”  
Yachi gently took his hands into hers.  
“You really do remember me?”

Now it was Hinata’s turn to nod.  
“I-- Yes, I do, I missed you so much, Hitoka, I--! You’re still alive, and wow, and . . . Wait, you’ve been living here?!”

“Yup. For a few years now,” she answered, sitting down next to him.  
“I’m so happy! We’re all together, once again!”

Hinata smiled, a warm feeling pooling in his chest.  
He still felt a bit guilty that he forgot about Kageyama, Yachi and his previous group, Kitagawa Daiichi.

“I’m. . . I didn’t mean to forget about you, and everyone--”  
“Hey, it’s fine! Such a thing wasn’t your fault in any way. Nobody thinks it is.”

Yachi handed him a warm cup with. . . water?  
But it had a sweet scent. . .

Hesitantly taking a sip, Yachi giggled as Hinata’s expression turned into one of surprise.  
“Herb water!” she supplied proudly.

“Herb water. . .” Hinata repeated in awe, slurping.  
“. . . Hey, where’s Kageyama?”

_He didn’t leave for good, did he?_

“Oh, he just left. Went out to take a bath in the lake,” Yachi said, “You know, that large one in the middle of this forest. It’s east from here.”

Hinata knew, Karasuno always bathed there, as well.  
In fact, he and Suga had gone there themselves a day ago.

Tightly gripping the cup, Hinata realised something.  
“. . . Kageyama stayed here with you for the past few weeks?”

Yachi nodded.

Which meant that that guy he. . . he killed. . . had to have seen Kageyama leave when he went to go to Yachi.  
How much had that man wanted to kill Kageyama, if he waited _weeks_ for the right moment?!

Yachi flashed him a knowing smile.  
“Take some food with you if you go meet him. Don’t worry, Kageyama wants to talk to you, too.”

Hinata had many more questions for Yachi, but for now, he simply hugged her tightly.  
“Thank you for taking care of Kageyama,” he mumbled, “He gets lonely easily.”

She gladly hugged him back.  
“. . . You noticed that, huh? . . . Without Kageyama, I would’ve been really lonely too.”

“Hitoka, you’re going to have to tell me a lot more about everything soon, but for now. . . I’ll bring Kageyama back with me!”

Hinata kicked the blanket off, and jumped up, rejuvenated.

She quickly followed and collected a few fruits and pieces of meat from the campfire, handing it to Hinata.  
“Be sure to eat it!”

Even though Hinata met Yachi for the first time again in years, they felt comfortable with each other.  
It felt they like they’d never been apart.

“I will, I will!” he laughed, already chewing on a piece of roasted meat to emphasize his sincerity.  
The meat really did taste amazing, warm and tasty and juicy and better than usual, slowly filling up his stomach the more he ate.

At first, he carefully slipped through the leave packet down to a branch, but the more he climbed down, the easier it got.  
Hinata may be short, but he could _jump_ extremely high and far.

Looking back up at the gigantic tree, she saw Yachi’s head poking through and waving at him with a grin, and so he waved back.  
Then she pointed in a direction.  
East.

With a thumbs up, Hinata sprinted away, soon reduced to casually jogging through the forest, ravishing the food Yachi gave him within minutes.

The orange glow all around him signaled the end of a day.  
Hinata wasn’t anxious at all, even if he hadn’t been in the forest on this side of the lake, ever.  
He’d run into the body of water eventually.

And he did.  
Ignoring the sting in his side, Hinata didn’t slow down.

Only when he saw Kageyama, he stopped.  
Careful not to make a sound, he approached through the trees.

Hinata padded onto the shore, where a neatly folded tower of clothing was set on the ground.

The air had turned a bit colder, a light breeze brushing through his orange hair.

The last sunshine shone onto the lake, lighting it up and reflecting upon and twisting the water into various shades of bluish green and orange and yellow.

But Hinata’s eyes were on the person in the very middle of it all.

Drops trickling down a slim, muscular body.  
A few scars on the otherwise smooth, lightly tanned skin.  
Pitch black hair flattened and dripping, eyes closed shut.

Hinata Shouyou was a goner.

He wasn’t even going to try and deny it.

That heat radiating from his face, those tremors running through his body, and the thrill it all gave him.

He wanted to feel those safe arms around him again, and return the favor, too.

Kageyama opened his eyes.  
That deep blue, now so familiar to Hinata, staring right into his own hazel.  
Once more.

Hands previously rushing through hair, now resting alongside his body, just barely breaking through the lake’s surface.

Hinata trembled where he stood.  
His hands tightened around the strap of the small hip pouch he’d carried the food in, just to hold onto _something_.

They didn’t break eye contact.  
Not when Kageyama waded back to the shore, heading straight for Hinata.

Stepping out of the lake, Hinata didn’t dare look anywhere else but into his eyes.  
Not because Kageyama was fully naked, and seemed to feel absolutely nothing about standing in front of Hinata like that.

Not at all.

Inches away, Kageyama bent forward, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“You scared the ever living shit out of me, did you know that? . . . Dumbass Hinata.”

Nothing but helpless sputtering exited Hinata’s mouth, finally breaking eye contact as he tried to find something else to focus on.

Kageyama turned away and snatched his pants and briefs off the ground, not minding his legs were still wet.  
With relative difficulty he managed to slip into the pieces of clothing, and finally, Hinata could face him again.

“I-it wasn’t on purpose!”  
“You’re a creep.”  
“No, you just looked-- you looked--!”

Pausing mid air while trying to reach for his shirt, Kageyama raised an eyebrow.  
“I looked. . . ?”

Hinata crossed his arms.  
“. . . You don’t deserve to know.”

“ _You_ were the one creeping on _me_ , if anything--”

“Beautiful.”  
Hinata swallowed.

“. . . What?”

“I _said_ , you looked beautiful!”

Kageyama’s mouth opened, then closed without a sound.  
Hinata pursed his lips close together, his heart beating out of his chest, he thought he would just _die_ on the spot--

“. . . Nobody has ever said that to me,” Kageyama breathed, looking more stunned than embarrassed.

Stars were beautiful.  
The setting sun was beautiful.  
The moon was beautiful.

And Hinata found _him_ beautiful.

Kageyama slipped his shirt over his head, buying a few seconds to think and deal with what Hinata just told him.

Neither said a word.  
Hinata wasn’t looking at him anymore, instead staring at the grass at their feet.

Only when he felt fingers brushing against his own, Hinata looked back up.  
Kageyama stood even closer than before, and he could smell his scent on his clothing.

“How are you feeling? About. . . what happened, yesterday?” Kageyama asked, in such a gentle tone.  
“. . . You’ve never killed before, have you?”

Hinata felt okay.  
All he’d been thinking about was what would’ve happened to Kageyama if he didn’t get there in time.

There was no other way.  
It wasn’t Hinata’s fault-- no, it was.  
It was his fault.  
He killed someone.  
Because he tried to kill Kageyama.  
But Kindaichi deserved it.  
It wasn’t Hinata’s fault.  
It wasn’t. . .

Kageyama saw the panic level rising in Hinata’s entire body, trembling.  
But he’d have Hinata deal with it now rather than later, when it was only the two of them.  
The impact of killing a person was enormous, and one would need time to come to terms with it.

But rather now than have it be triggered in the middle of another life-threatening event.

Kageyama simply had to hope Hinata would choose the easy way out for himself.  
To not blame it on himself, but on the one he had killed-- Kindaichi, instead.

“. . . It wasn’t your fault,” Kageyama whispered, trying to tell Hinata’s mind to believe the same thing.

Hinata almost didn’t process Kageyama’s other hand reaching up, and carefully weaving through Hinata’s hair, against the back of his head.

Pushing lightly, guiding the side of the ginger’s head to his chest.

Too out of it to do anything else, Hinata could only listen.

Listen to the fast pounding of Kageyama’s heart against his ear.  
Just like his own heart.

Strong arms caged Hinata in place, so gently, reeling him closer.

Calming him down.  
Hinata wasn’t alone.  
If he had not killed Kindaichi, he and Kageyama wouldn’t be standing here right now.

Hinata looked up.  
He had to see for himself.

And he found what he was looking for.

His own longing reflected in those sapphire eyes.

Standing on the tips of his toes, Hinata’s lips met Kageyama’s halfway.

Rough and parched, yet so soft and warm.

It felt uncoordinated, because it was, and uncertain.

Shivering, he felt Kageyama’s shallow breaths against his skin.  
Tempted, he reached up with his arms, his hands resting on the man’s shoulders.  
Breathless, he gasped for oxygen, before he found Kageyama’s lips again.

Again.

And again.

Alternating between kissing, uttering sweet words and light touches, time passed without them realising.

Cool grass tickled his neck and elbows.  
Collapsed on the ground, Kageyama’s body rested heavily on top of his own, but Hinata didn’t mind.

Stroking his black, still somewhat wet hair, Hinata closed his eyes.  
He felt Kageyama breathing just as heavily as he himself was.

Then Kageyama rolled off of him, pulling him along, and suddenly their roles were reversed.

It was night.

Slowly, Kageyama rose, and adjusted Hinata to sit in between his legs, his chest against Hinata’s back.  
Facing the lake, he hummed in satisfaction.

“Look, Shouyou,” he muttered, “This is what I’ve always wanted to show you.”

Through half-lidded eyes, still recovering, Hinata gazed at the lake.  
Instantly, his eyes fully shot open.

Thousands, if not millions, of fireflies dancing across the water.  
Their tiny lights shining onto everything, the lake, the grass, the trees, the leaves.  
They blended in with the night sky, as if they were moving stars.

“What are those?” he asked, in awe.

“Insects. So don’t try and look at one of them up close because they’re ugly as all hell, you’ll be disappointed.”

Hinata laughed softly, fully relaxing against Kageyama.  
“Doesn’t that imply that you _have_ looked at one up close?”

“To this day, one of my biggest regrets.”

To Hinata’s delight, a few fireflies moved over towards them, flickering their lights as they created incoherent shapes in the air.

Kageyama’s head rested on top of Hinata’s head, nearly dozing off, if not for the continuous tickling of Hinata’s hair against his skin.

“Hey, Kageyama? . . . Is it my fault?” Hinata asked.

Only one answer here was right, and Kageyama himself believed it completely.

“It wasn’t. Kindaichi shouldn’t have. . . If he didn’t try to kill me, he wouldn’t be dead right now.”

Hinata’s head slowly bobbed up and down in agreement.

It wasn’t his fault.

“. . . Would you join Karasuno?”

Hinata held his breath.  
He had to ask Kageyama some way or another, and now seemed like the best timing.

“. . . If they’ll have me.”

Hinata’s eyes widened, bewildered, tearing his eyes away from the firefly show and instead looking up at Kageyama.  
He didn’t think it’d be that easy.

“Really?!”

“. . . Sure. I remembered what you said about Karasuno. You said they were like a family, people you could trust with your life. Besides. . .”  
Kageyama trailed.  
“I already planned on doing whatever you would want me to do.”

“Why?” Hinata asked, breathless.

“I. . . If you hated me, I would leave Tokyo behind and never come back. If you wanted to kill me, I’d let you. If. . .”  
“D-don’t. . . Don’t say such things, I would _never--_ ”

“If you wanted me to stay by your side, I would follow you wherever you’d go.”

Sighing in relief, Hinata pressed a kiss against Kageyama’s chin.  
“You won’t mind joining a group? Since you. . . with Aobajohsai. . .”

“I don’t mind,” Kageyama declared, “I was getting sick of being alone all the time anyway. And I trust you. You’ve been with Karasuno for years.”

He swallowed.  
“. . . But, Shouyou, will they even accept me? And. . . are those two who saved you out from underneath that wall, when the house collapsed. . . still alive?”

“I’m already a step ahead of you! I asked Suga if he’d let you join, and he said yes! Or, at least. . . was going to talk to Daichi about it, but he was pretty sure it’d be okay. . .”

Hinata smiled brightly, contrast to Kageyama’s doubting frown.  
Kageyama had missed that smile, more than he cared to admit.

“Suga and Daichi are the ones you met back then. Suga’s the one with silver hair, and he has a mark underneath his eye.”

Finally, a small smile spread across Kageyama’s lips, too.  
“I remember. I’m glad. . . “

_I’m glad they’re both still alive.  
_ _I’m glad you’ve accepted it wasn’t your fault._

He pushed his nose into Hinata’s hair.

“. . . Let’s go back tomorrow morning, then. I’ll come with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	15. Safe Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, an external problem rises.
> 
> Also, so are internal problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost made it-- only one day late.
> 
> You may have noticed this story is part of a series now!
> 
> 'Frozen in Time' is an overhauling series covering all of my future fics as well.  
> I recommend checking out the series summary, and maybe. . . subscribe, so you're automatically informed of any next installment!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!  
> This chapter only has one POV switch, which is a new record!

“So, do we have a plan?”

Shirabu nodded begrudgingly.  
He quickly pet through his own hair, trying to organize the bedhead he knew he had.  
His legs dangled from the edge of the plateau, blinking into the sun.

It wasn’t warm yet, as it was early morning.  
Perfect weather, nonetheless.

The trio had spent the night in the last standing tree house in Fukurodani’s territory, Semi and Shirabu rotating every few hours to stand guard.

Akaashi looked significantly better.  
His skin regained a more natural tone overnight, sharpened edges a bit fuller.  
He’d woken up a few times during the night, sweating, breathing heavily and close to tears.  
Then either Semi or Shirabu reassured him --yes, even Shirabu-- that they were away from Shiratorizawa, and that he was safe.

Taking the bottle from Semi, Shirabu gratefully downed a few gulps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  
Semi tousled Akaashi’s curly hair even further with a laugh, the latter grunting sleepily in response, and Shirabu clicked his tongue.

Now, Shirabu and Semi officially hadn’t kissed for twenty-one hours.  
Not even a quick peck.  
And it frustrated Shirabu to no end.  
He’d already accepted he was needy one in this relationship, but he just wanted one goddamn kiss to celebrate they were still alive.

With a yawn, Shirabu scrambled down the ladder, ignoring the headache thumping against his temples.  
“Semi, I left my bag up there, take it with you!”

Shirabu left it in the treehouse on purpose.

With his hands on his hips he watched Semi help down Akaashi, before climbing back up again to collect their stuff including Shirabu’s bag.

“There you go,” Semi hummed, strapping the bag to Shirabu’s back.  
“So. We travel through Nekoma first, and if Fukurodani ain’t there, we travel through to Karasuno. We hope and pray that they don’t kill on sight and will hear us out.”

“We’re _so_ going to die,” Shirabu concluded.  
“Before we even set foot outside Tokyo.”

“Don’t be like that. . . We have a pretty good idea about what’s going on. Karasuno isn’t. . . they’re not merciless. Though, I guess if Fukurodani really is with them, and they see us with Akaashi. . .” Semi trailed.

Semi offered his arm to Akaashi, who took it.  
He could keep up with a normal walking pace, but not without support yet.

Shirabu had his doubts.  
He knew Shiratorizawa hadn’t attacked Karasuno yet, unlike Nekoma, Fukurodani and Aobajohsai.  
For as far as they knew.  
God knows what Ushijima did in the one day they’ve been away from Shiratorizawa.

Goshiki may have let them leave, but Tendou would have discovered the disappearance of Akaashi by now.  
Shirabu didn’t exclude the possibility of him, Semi and Akaashi being hunted down by their previous group.

Which is why he had both his guns ready, only having to aim and pull the trigger if needed.

Not even an hour after they continued their trek in the early morning.  
Very, very soft rumbling in the distance.  
Shirabu cocked his head, frowning.

Semi nor Akaashi had noticed.

“Semi,” Shirabu hissed, glaring at him from a distance.  
“Stop moving.”

Semi’s eyes darted around through the trees, as if looking for the danger Shirabu’s voice was hinting at.  
He stopped moving.

Closing his eyes, Shirabu listened again.  
Focusing.  
Concentrating.

Then his mouth fell open in realisation, frozen.

_He knew it._  
_He knew this was going to happen, he literally just thought about it--_

Backing away, towards Semi and Akaashi, he shook his head disbelief.

“Semi,” he said, “We have to go. We have to go _now_.”

“What? Shirabu, why--”

“Please, Semi, we have to run! There’s-- There’s a goddamn reason Goshiki let us go without much trouble! Go!”

Semi trusted Shirabu.  
And therefor, he beckoned for Akaashi to climb on his back.  
Akaashi wasn’t able to run yet.

Urgently, Shirabu fast-walked further into the direction they were heading towards, looking backwards to see Semi following him.  
The two quickly broke into full-on sprinting through the trees, Semi’s long legs carefully avoiding bushes and tree stumps.

Shirabu glared behind them every now and then, guns in either hand.

“So why,” Semi panted, “Are we running, precisely?”

Akaashi made sure to hold onto Semi tightly but not too tightly.  
He held one arm up to shield any branches from hitting him or Semi.  
He, just like Shirabu, looked back as well, though he had still no idea what was going on either.

“I can’t believe,” Shirabu said, “We all thought absolutely no consequences would follow.”

The forest passed them by in a flurry of various greens.

“It’s a man-made herd, Eita. Or rather, a Tendou-made herd.”

This was not a time for witty, smart-ass remarks, but Shirabu couldn’t help himself.  
He knew it was Tendou’s herd.  
It came from the direction of Shiratorizawa, heading towards them, while natural herds had to pass through Fukurodani’s forest first.

“And instead of Aobajohsai on the receiving end, this time it’s us.”

**xxx**

Holding his breath, Hinata placed the last pink flower right on top of Kageyama’s head.

Yachi silently cheered, holding in her laughter.

Hinata scrambled backwards, taking in the sight.

Kageyama, snoring softly, covered in a blanket of flowers and its petals.  
Hinata had taken his time to carefully decorate Kageyama’s hair as well, giving the illusion of a messy flower crown.

Honestly, in no way this was something the two should be doing right now, but well. . . Kageyama was asleep, and couldn’t judge them for it.

A petal slipped down onto Kageyama’s nose.

Hinata snorted.

But then the crashing realisation hit him when Kageyama’s entire expression scrunched up.

“Oh no,” he whisper-laughed, “He’s going to--”

With the loudest, over-the-top snort known to mankind, Kageyama sneezed, and the flowers fluttered away.

Blinking, dazed, Kageyama glanced from the flowers on his lap to Hinata, to Yachi, and back to the flowers.  
His mouth fell open, but he had no words.

“You weren’t-- you weren’t waking up,” Hinata defended himself and his actions, “And since you were going to be angry with us anyway no matter how we woke you--”

Hinata was afraid the vein on Kageyama’s temple would pop.

“. . . You look really cute,” Hinata concluded.

“Oh, is that so?” Kageyama asked alarmingly calm.  
He snatched a flower out of his hair and squeezed it in between his fingers.

_“Is that so?”_

He slowly stood up, the remainders of the flowers falling down.  
A shadow cast over his face as he glared down at Hinata, who flinched at the horrifying sight.

Yachi had subtly shuffled away, and Hinata mouthed her a ‘Traitor!’.

Launching himself at Hinata, Hinata shrieking bloody murder, they nearly rolled into the fire.  
Hinata didn’t dare open his eyes, but nothing happened--

Until fingers drummed across the skin on his waist, a little bit higher, the sensation felt by his entire body.  
Hinata instinctively kicked up his legs, trapping Kageyama.

He could still handle the tickling, for now.  
But then Kageyama reached up a bit higher.

Shocks were sent through Hinata’s entire body and he burst out laughing, to Kageyama’s satisfaction.  
He vaguely heard Yachi giggle along in the background.

“M-mercy! Tobio, have mercy!” he cried, thrashing and flailing around.  
“Please!”

“You,” Kageyama punctuated, “Should be preparing your stuff so we can leave, not decorate me with flowers!”

“I know, I know. . . ! _Oh god_!” Hinata wheezed, “I’m sorry!”

Kageyama hummed, contemplating whether Hinata suffered enough yet.  
‘Suffered’ was a big word, though.

A few joyous tears welled up in the corners of Hinata’s eyes, his ribs hurt from laughing.  
Kageyama finally backed away, stood up and shook his head to shake the last few petals out of his hair.

He caught Yachi’s fond smile.  
He also saw her sadness.

Bending down in front of her, Kageyama bit his lip.  
Hinata was a giggling mess on the ground still, so he wasn’t going to be useful anytime soon.

“Hey,” he mumbled, and she looked back at him.  
“. . . We’ll definitely come visit you as often as we can. Don’t worry.”

Yachi held up her pinky finger.  
“Promise?”

With a grin, he wrapped his own larger, calloused one around hers.  
“Promise. I also promise to protect Shouyou.”

She smiled, then lunged forward and tightly hugged Kageyama, pressing her cheek against his.  
“Please be careful. You’re both always welcome to come back and live with me.”

“Yeah. Thank you,” Kageyama muttered.

Yachi reached up and pushes a few dark strands of hair out of Kageyama’s face.  
She leaned forward and pressed a kiss on top of his forehead, the same way Michimiya did to him so long ago.  
“Good luck, Tobio.”

With a nod, he turned away, and gathered up Hinata’s things and his own bag and weapons.  
Hinata had replaced him at Yachi’s side now, the both of them talking in soft voices.

Karasuno.  
Kageyama wouldn’t deny he wasn’t nervous.  
Though it was more paranoia than anything, he still didn’t like that he didn’t even know how most of Karasuno’s members looked like.  
Maybe he should’ve gone on more patrols with Oikawa.

There was also the fact he had a role to play in the death of Karasuno’s previous leader.  
But he was ready for it.  
He’d face them.  
Together with Hinata.

Being a lone wolf in Tokyo is really not the best survival method at all.  
Yachi made it work for herself, but even she learned it all from her previous group, before said group got chased out of Tokyo by Shiratorizawa.

Oh, Kageyama almost forgot.  
Opening his bag, he took out the dirty heap of fabric rolled up.  
Its yellow was vague and parts were ripped due to time taking its toll, but it looked fine enough.

Unrolling it, he pat out the dust collection.

“Hitoka? I got you the flag,” he called out without turning back, examining the fabric once again.

He heard her gasp and scramble to get to Kageyama, Hinata following behind, curious.

“Thank you!” she chirped, taking the flag from Kageyama.  
She looked it over, and smiled.

“Wait, but that is. . .” Hinata trailed, peeking over her shoulder.  
“. . . Johzenji’s flag?”

She nodded.  
“Yup! Ah, I guess I didn’t tell you yet. I was picked up by Johzenji out of that restaurant, when you two had to run. I lived with them. But then they started to pick fights with Shiratorizawa, and well. . .”

Yachi sighed.  
“When Misaki died, they didn’t want to stay in Tokyo any longer. So they left.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?” Hinata asked.

Kageyama has heard this story before, so he continued rummaging around to check if they had everything.

“I was still looking for you two,” she hummed, “I hoped you were still alive. I found this tree on accident when I was looking for fruit one day, and I soon moved in here. Ask Tobio to tell you the story of how we met, you’ll like it.”

She giggled softly, and Kageyama grunted.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Kageyama spoke up, “We’re ready. Let’s go, Hinata.”

“Well, you’re going to have to tell me that story one day,” Hinata said, skipping over to grab his bow and arrows.  
The familiar feel of his weapon in his hands was tied to the memory of his first murder.  
He gripped the handle tightly.

His eyes drifted to Kageyama’s neck.  
The thinnest red slit and purple fingerprints were the only remainders of what happened.

Kageyama ran his finger along the edge of spear, frowning slightly, before balancing it on top of his hand.  
He then took his own bag and tied the straps.

“Well, Hitoka. We’re off. We’ll come see you in. . . a week, or something,” Kageyama said.  
Without any further goodbye’s, he carefully leveraged himself through the leaves hiding the plateau away, and disappeared from their sight.

Hinata smiled.  
Yachi nudged his arm with a sly grin.  
“You two cleared things up, huh?”

A blush crept on Hinata’s cheeks as he quickly nodded.  
“Yeah. I. . . I don’t have all the answers yet, but I feel like. . . We’re going to be fine.”

“I’m glad. I’m really glad, Shouyou. And be careful out there.”

The two hugged, Yachi burying her face into Hinata’s shoulder, a few tears slipping past.  
“. . . don’t forget to visit me. Don’t forget. . . me.”

“Of course we won’t,” Hinata reassured her, “I’ll need someone to conspire against Kageyama with.”

She laughed, wiping her tears away quickly.  
“Off you go, then. Have a safe trip!”

Then Hinata too, slipped through the leaf packet onto the highest branch.  
Looking down, Kageyama already reached the ground, waiting.

All the way, Kageyama kept his eyes on him.

When he reached the last branch, the dark-haired man spread open his arms wide, and Hinata jumped.  
Kageyama swung him around once, before setting him down on the ground as well.

Jumping up and down, Hinata took a few deep breaths.  
“Tobio! Race to the edge of the forest!”

And he sprinted away before Kageyama could even get one word of protest in.  
Now, he wasn’t one to refuse a challenge anyway, especially not regarding Hinata, so he took off after him.

Despite Hinata’s head start, halfway to the endpoint, Kageyama caught up to him.  
Hinata cried out for injustice because he hadn’t been able to build up his stamina again yet, due to his previous injury, but Kageyama just ignored it.

Sitting on top of a small boulder, drinking from the water bottle, he watched as the panting, sweaty mess that was Hinata strode out of the forest, out of breath.

Jumping down, Kageyama tossed him the bottle and Hinata gratefully took it.  
“I told you,” he said between gulps, “Injustice.”

“You issued the challenge, and you had a head start,” Kageyama pointed out, “So you _really_ don’t get to complain.”

Hinata rolled his eyes, leaning against Kageyama with his sweaty body.  
“You nervous? About meeting Karasuno?”

“I mean. . . they might kill me on the spot, so yeah.”  
“They wouldn’t! C’mon now! Tobio!”  
“Maybe I die today.”  
“You won’t!”  
“At least I got to say goodbye to Hitoka.”  
“Stop!”  
“Life was. . . good? . . . while it lasted.”  
_“Oh my god.”_  
“Farewell.”

Lightly pushing against Kageyama, the two had started walking in a normal pace.

“You sure you aren’t more nervous than I am?” Kageyama asked when Hinata became awfully quiet the further they approached the orphanage.

“Am not!”  
“Hmm. . . are too.”  
“Am. Not.”  
“. . . are too.”  
“No!”  
“I think you are.”

Hinata whined and tugged at his sleeve, “Shut up!”

Kageyama snorted at his pouty expression.

He then hesitantly held his hand out to Hinata, to soothe him, a peace offering.  
“Okay, okay. I’ll shut up.”

With a huff, Hinata aggressively grabbed Kageyama’s hand and interlaced their fingers, pursing his lips in fake irritation.

Only then it dawned on Hinata that Suga and Daichi had no idea where he had run off to, yesterday.  
And only when he lead Kageyama through the last part of the alleyway maze, he realised he forgot to tell Kageyama about the sudden arrival of Nekodani as well, and that they might still be there.  
He also forgot he had to tell everyone about. . . the problem regarding Aobajohsai.

“Say, ehm. . . Tobio?”  
“What?”  
“Do you. . . have any bad experiences with Nekoma or Fukurodani?”  
“Why’re you asking?”  
“. . . just curious?”

Kageyama clearly didn’t believe him, but decided to humor Hinata anyway.  
“I once killed someone from Nekoma. Years ago. That’s it.”

“ _That’s it?!_ What do you mean _‘That’s it’_ oh god-- okay, okay--”

Kageyama frowned at the panicking ginger who swung their hands back and forth in a rapid pace.  
He swore if that went on for any longer, his wrist would break.

“Okay, Tobio-- Do you think they still hold it against you if you met them now?”

“Maybe? It was a one-on-one confrontation and I got away alive without a scratch, while their guy died, so--”

Well.  
Now they had another problem to deal with.

“Right right right Tobio, stay calm--”  
“I am calm.”  
“I said, _stay calm_!”  
“Goddamnit, I am calm!”

Hinata licked his lips.  
“Does Kuroo intimidate you?!”

“Hinata, _what the fuck!_ ”

Then they stood right in front of the gates of the orphanage.

“You better tell me what the fuck you’re on about real soon,” Kageyama grumbled.  
He ran his fingers along the wood of his spear.  
His heart jumped as he gazed up at the building, tall and looming.

No Walker bodies were left, the plaza was open and clean.  
Unlike the last time Kageyama went here.

“N-no-nothing’s going to happen,” Hinata breathed, “We’ll be fine. Tobio, just stay close to me, okay?!”

“O-okay?”

“I’ll protect you!”

“From what?”

“Nekoma and Fukuroda--”

Hinata glared at Kageyama.  
“. . . you snake.”

“You’re saying Nekoma and Fukurodani are with Karasuno right now?!”

“We’ll be fine!” Hinata shrieked, peeking through the fence.

“I don’t think we will.”

Kageyama swallowed, tightening his grip on his spear.  
Of course, he wasn’t planning on using it, but just for safety measures. . .

The door to the orphanage swung open, and out stepped Suga.

Hinata sighed in relief.  
If it had been any other person, even Daichi, they would’ve been in a lot more trouble.

Suga looked tired.  
He had dark circles underneath his eyes, and even yawned as he closed in on the gate.

Only then noticed Kageyama, and his eyes widened.

He looked from Hinata to Kageyama to their locked hands and back to Hinata.

“I had a feeling that’s where you ran off to,” Suga said, a tiny smile on his face.  
He pushed open the gate to let them in.

Suga was wary of Kageyama.  
The latter met Suga’s stare head-on, knowing he’d get judged no matter what.  
Suga’s eyes flickered over to the marks on Kageyama’s neck, once.

Apparently they stared at each other for so long, even Hinata started to try and get their attention to move along.

“You’re going to have to explain a lot, Hinata,” Suga sighed, “Hey, Kageyama.”

He held out his hand, smiling gently.  
“I’m Sugawara Koushi, but please just call me ‘Suga’. I’ve heard a _lot_ about you from Hinata.”

Hinata fiddled around with the loose straps of Kageyama’s bag, clearly far more anxious than Kageyama in the end.

Hesitantly, Kageyama shook his hand, his own nervousness slowly fading away.  
The kind of atmosphere Suga carried with him, was one Kageyama liked a lot.  
Warm, welcoming, but the right amount of caution nonetheless.

“. . . It’s nice to meet you again,” Kageyama mumbled, earning himself a delightfully surprised expression from Suga.

“You still remember me, really?” he hummed, “Without you, we wouldn’t have Hinata here with us. You’ve saved him. . . twice, now.”

Hinata’s face turned red.

“Ah, I-- I’m. . . He saved me, too,” Kageyama said, pointing at his own neck, “I guess he must’ve ran off in a hurry yesterday, but. . . I nearly died, if not for Shou-- Hinata.”

Suga nodded in understanding.  
He glanced back at the orphanage behind him.  
“Nekoma and Fukurodani are with us for the next couple of days.”

Hinata bit his lip.  
“I thought so. . . We need to talk about some things in private, but. . .”

“I’ll get Daichi,” Suga said, “We can only lock the door as far as privacy goes, but I’ll ask Tanaka if he can stand guard, just so none of Nekodani listen in.”

He nodded to himself.  
They had to be careful.  
They’ll most definitely be see by at least some people, inevitably.  
But that’s a risk they had to take.

“Okay. Hinata, Kageyama. . . Follow me. Ignore anyone we pass,” he said firmly, and Kageyama felt inclined to nod.

Hinata squeezed his hand reassuringly, feeling a lot better himself now that they got to talk to Suga first.  
Kageyama kept his mouth shut, jaw clenching and unclenching, as they followed the silver-haired man inside.

As soon as the front door closed behind them, a sense of paranoia boxed him in.  
It was warm inside, and he could hear multiple voices talking in various rooms and parts of the building.

A shaky breath escaped his lips.  
His body started to involuntarily tremble, as he glanced around into every possible direction.

It’d been so long he’d been in the presence of this many people.

Three different groups.

“Tobio, hey!” Hinata hissed softly, “Calm down!”

But Kageyama did not calm down.  
He barely processed walking up a set of stairs.

A short man with light brown man passed them by, previously talking with a much taller man with parted grey hair.  
They both stared at them.  
Kageyama knew they were from Nekoma.  
They might’ve recognized him already.

Throughout the house it smelled musky and sweaty all around.

Haggard breathing.

He started panicking.

He couldn’t see clearly anymore, his legs felt unsteady.

Kageyama felt small hands push into his back, the creaking of a door, and he got pushed inside a room.  
A few different voices.

This was not a good look for Kageyama.  
Unstable.  
Overwhelmed.

Someone sat him down on a chair.

He closed his eyes.  
Warm hands enclosed around his.

When Kageyama opened his eyes again, in total, four people occupied the room.  
And he recognized all of them.

Swallowing, he met Daichi’s unreadable expression.

Hinata stood behind Kageyama, his hands now resting on his shoulders.

Suga stood to the side, calmly waiting until Kageyama caught his breath.

When he did, he took a step forward.

“Kageyama, this is Sawamura Daichi, leader of Karasuno. Daichi, this is Kageyama Tobio. He recognized me, you know!” he hummed, sounding somewhat proud.

“So you really did survive back then. . . What happened?” Daichi asked, his features softening ever so slightly, not feeling as intimidating anymore.  
It surprised Kageyama this was the first question he’d have to answer.

“The old leader of Aobajohsai, Irihata Nobuteru, found me. They saw you two leave with Hinata on their side of the border, and he with a few others soon. . . snuck into your territory, cleared out the Walkers and found me. They’d been keeping track of the herd, so they were around at the same time as you were.”

“I see,” Daichi simply nodded.  
He turned his attention to Hinata, who flinched.  
“Alright. Now. . . Why’d you run off yesterday?”

Well, here goes nothing.

“I, ehm. . . somehow knew Kageyama was in danger. So I went to the only place I knew he could be, Johzenji’s old hideout. And. . . there he was. With someone else.”

Once more, Kageyama lifted up his chin and showed the two older men the remnants of the strangulation.  
Hinata didn’t have to answer this one on his own.

“An old. . . rival, from Aobajohsai had ambushed me. Had seen me leave, and waited weeks for the right moment till I got back. I don’t know how he knew that I would come back at all, but. . .”

Kageyama tilted his head upwards.  
Hinata gave him a near unnoticeable nod.

“I almost died, if not for Hinata. He killed him. Kindaichi Yuutarou from Aobajohsai,” he concluded.  
No need beating around the bush.

Suga gasped, worriedly looking at Hinata, who turned away.

“Aobajohsai also knows that this happened.”

“W-we stayed in the forest for the night,” Hinata added in a soft voice.  
He wouldn’t give Yachi’s existence away, of course.  
He technically wasn’t lying either.

“I have nowhere to go. So when Shou-- Hinata, asked if I’d join Karasuno. . . well. . . I agreed and hoped for the best,” Kageyama stated.  
“I don’t. . . You know what I did. And I. . . I am sorry.”

A contemplating hum rose from Daichi’s throat, his brows lowering.  
Kageyama nor Hinata seemed to be lying --Hinata wasn’t known to lie anyways-- and the two seemed to have developed something more than just acquaintance or friendship.  
“I accept your apology. We now know that herd could be traced back to Shiratorizawa, yet. . . it is appreciated.”

Even Suga breathed out in relief.  
“Hinata, how are you. . . ?”

“I’m doing fine,” Hinata sighed, “I had no other choice. I-I know this may cause problems maybe with Aobajohsai, but I couldn’t let Tobio die!”

And he was truly doing fine.  
Even he himself thought he’d be out of it for a long time, but even to Hinata, in this world, in human nature. . .  
Death wasn’t all that impactful anymore as it maybe should be.

Suga clasped his hands together to change the atmosphere.  
“Okay. So, Kageyama? You want to stay with Hinata, don’t you?”

Of course Suga had figured them out already.

Suga laughed softly, ignoring Daichi’s still somewhat concerned expression.  
He took the other chair in the small meeting room, and sat down in front of Kageyama, who looked back at him anxiously.

“Well, doesn’t this remind you of a certain someone, _Daichi?_ ”  
Suga fluttered his eyelashes innocently at the addressed standing next to him.  
“Wanting to follow someone wherever they’d go, even begging to join the same group? Hm?”

Daichi grunted, not immune to Suga’s suggestive teasing.  
“Yeah yeah. I know. Ehm, let’s see. . . You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want this yourself, so. . . Okay, how about this.”

Daichi cleared his throat, and all three looked at him expectantly.  
“One week to see how you fare within Karasuno. Everyone will be informed about this situation to a certain degree, and there will always be someone keeping a close eye on you.”

He sternly watched Kageyama.  
“Don’t go outside the orphanage grounds without us knowing and agreeing to it. Don’t cause any trouble. No weapons, only if needed in special occasions.”

Reasonable, in Kageyama’s opinion.  
Those were still pretty loose rules, he expected worse.

“If you break any of these ground rules, well. . .”  
Now Daichi’s expression turned scary again.  
“. . . Consequences will follow. For Hinata as well. Understand that we are putting a great amount of trust in you for allowing you here. Of course. . .”

Daichi turned around, striding towards the door.  
“. . . We know of your skills. I really do hope you’ll fit in with the group.”

And the leader disappeared into the hallway, most likely on his way to inform all other inhabitants of Kageyama.

“That,” Suga said, “Could’ve gone much worse. Great to have you here, Kageyama! As you heard, Nekoma and Fukurodani are here with us. Which makes this situation even more chaotic.”

Hinata threaded his fingers through Kageyama’s hair, feeling him relax now that the looming presence of Karasuno’s leader had disappeared.

“To give you a short summary of these past two days, Nekodani wants to get rid of Shiratorizawa. We currently know Shiratorizawa has been operating with five members only; Ushijima, Tendou, Semi, Shirabu and Goshiki.”

“Is. . . Daichi going along with that?” Hinata asked.

Suga shook his head.  
“Nope. He refused to send Karasuno even deeper into this mess where possibly more people die. Kuroo’s bitter about it, Bokuto is devastated.”

“Are you sure it’s okay I hear all of this, too?” Kageyama hesitantly asked.  
Classified information, and all.  
He hadn’t even joined Karasuno officially, yet, even though he knew for certain this is what he wanted.  
He wanted to stay with Hinata, and who knows. . . maybe he’d come to like Karasuno, one day.

But Suga brushed it off.  
“It’s fine. If you’re going to stay with us even for a trial week, you’re going to be involved nonetheless.”

Then, something strange happened.  
Suga reached out, carefully, and his fingers brushing a few rogue strands of hair out Kageyama’s face.  
Kageyama didn’t flinch away; he almost did, but that’s beside the point.  
His whole body _screamed_ at him to move away, in fact.

Hinata looked on in awe, walking around the chair Kageyama rested on, and watch from the viewpoint of Suga instead.

Warm finger pads against his own, cold cheek.  
Gently touching.  
Reassuring.

Brushing past the purple bruises on his neck.

Now, Kageyama didn’t know why, but even though his body would rather flinch away from this contact, his mind completely trusted this man, Sugawara Koushi.

Brushing past the dark circles underneath his eyes, with his thumb.  
One wrong move and Kageyama could get his eye scooped out.

He just trusted Suga.  
Maybe because this was a different way of touching than Hinata’s, and it was one he’d missed in his life.

The closest resemblance, with whom he used to feel this same warm feeling, would be Michimiya.

“I’ll ask Kiyoko to look at those marks,” Suga hummed, finally retracting his hand.  
“Hinata? I think it might be a good idea if you stick closely with Kageyama, not that you wouldn’t do so anyway, but. . . God knows, someone’s going to have a problem with Kageyama’s presence.”

Hinata groaned, but quickly flashed Kageyama a smile.  
“Don’t worry! Stingyshima’s going to annoy you for sure, because he annoys everyone-- And let’s just stay away from Nekodani, except Kenma, Kenma’s nice, but I don’t like Kuroo, so--”

With a light chuckle, Kageyama rose from the chair, just as Suga did the same.  
“Don’t worry. I won’t step out of line,” he stated, determined, “I can take most insults.”

“Most?”

“Most.”

Hinata decided it would be wise to not question it any further.  
Instead, he jumped up grabbed Kageyama’s hand.  
On their way to the orphanage, Hinata found out that he, in fact, really likes holding Kageyama’s hand.

“I’ll show you around! Follow me!”

Kageyama didn’t really have a choice, as Hinata marched out of the door.  
His scrunched up face must’ve shown exactly how he felt, seeing as Suga laughed softly, following them and closing the door.

Tanaka nearly twisted his neck to look at Kageyama, as they exited.  
He instantly engaged in a staredown, scowling, contorting his face into angles Kageyama thought to be impossible.

Hinata had no idea what to do as the two men stared back at each other in the middle of the hallway --one calmly, the other threatening-- his eyes rapidly switching between Kageyama and Tanaka.

Tanaka squinted his eyes at the newcomer.  
Daichi already told him about Kageyama, but still.  
He’d have to judge him for himself.

And apparently, Kageyama quickly passed this unknown judgement ritual, as Tanaka’s expression soon transformed back into a satisfied grin, before slapping Kageyama against his back.  
“Nice to meet ya, I’m Tanaka! Heard from Shouyou over there that you’re good with a spear, so we’ll have to have a sparring contest soon!”

With a nod, overwhelmed once again, Kageyama watched Tanaka hurdle away again, entering a room further down the hallway.

“What do you think?”  
Suga couldn’t hide his smile at the expression the dark-haired man wore.  
Kageyama Tobio had been different than Suga expected him to be, so far.  
Hinata had described him as a rude, fearless warrior mowing down Walkers with the grace of a dancer, but he seemed more like an awkward, shy guy instead.

Not that Suga doubted Hinata’s words.  
Kageyama was probably just nervous, something Suga could understand.  
Who wouldn’t be, in his situation?

“. . . I think he’s completely fair in distrusting me,” Kageyama answered.  
“Though I feel like this didn’t go as bad as it could be. . .”

Hinata knowingly smirked, exchanging a glance with Suga.  
“You would be right. A well-known hobby of Tanaka is picking fights with anyone within a two-metre vicinity.”

“I didn’t know you knew words like ‘vicinity’, I’m mildly impressed,” Kageyama hummed teasingly.

“Wha-- Suga, you hear that? I told you he’s mean!”

“I didn’t know you knew that word either,” Suga stated.

“I heard it from Tsukishima,” Hinata confessed, “I asked him to explain what it means, he refused, I called him stingy, he called me dumb, I called him cold-hearted just like Tobio is, he said I should learn how to read if I wanted to know what it meant, I said I would never learn if he didn’t tell me, and then--”

He took a deep breath.  
“Yamaguchi explained it to me.”

“I think something was in there that should offend me, but I’m going to ignore it,” Kageyama grumbled, rolling his eyes as he sauntered ahead.  
“Hurry up, we don’t have all day to stand in this hallway.”

With a huff, Hinata skipped after him, pulling ahead again to lead Kageyama downstairs again.  
“Well, as long as we don’t run into--”

Rounding a corner, Hinata bumped into someone, nearly tumbling down if not for Kageyama holding his shoulders.  
He looked up.

That spiky, unruly mess of pitch black hair only spelled disaster.  
Hazel eyes with cat-like pupils didn’t look back down at Hinata, instead fixed on Kageyama’s scowl.

Hinata scrambled to his feet for the umpteenth time today, a quick glance back and forth instantly showing the electrifying tension between the two pairs of eyes.

Just perfect.  
It seemed like fate always found a way to create chaos.

And it always seemed to target him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fate being a convoluted comparison to me, the omnipotent overlord of this story.
> 
> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	16. Misleading Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, some find closure.
> 
> Also, experiences change people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is literally only filled with Aobajohsai and Karasuno.  
> It's also the closest to 'wholesome' we're going to get in this story.
> 
> Oh, and my new estimate for total chapter count is 21.  
> If you read this when I've completed this fic. . . you'll know if I'm right or not.  
> Probably not.

Waking up next to Oikawa is like watching a fairy tale unfurl.

Because he was beautiful.  
Even with his bed hair.

Long eyelashes, messy brown curls, lips slightly parted.  
His arm loosely slung around Iwaizumi’s waist, his forehead nuzzled into his neck.

Even though Iwaizumi’s arm felt stiff and hurt, he didn’t want to move and possibly wake up Oikawa.

It’s different watching him wake up naturally.  
When Oikawa isn’t fully aware of his surroundings yet, except for Iwaizumi’s warm body on his side.

Rubbing his eyes, Iwaizumi settled back underneath the blankets, letting Oikawa hog most of it.

They hadn’t had a group meeting since Kindaichi’s passing.  
He managed to convince Oikawa to organise one today, two days later.

Because they needed to talk.

Oikawa needed to tell the others that he decided to not undertake any action against Karasuno.

The sun shone through the window, just missing their faces.  
Tiny dust particles floated through the air in the rays, creating a simple spectacle.

Oikawa stirred against him.  
Iwaizumi turned to lay on one side, facing Oikawa.

Eyelashes fluttered open.  
Chocolate doe eyes honing in on Iwaizumi’s face, not bothered by the sunlight.  
The most vulnerable Oikawa could ever be, was with Iwaizumi.

“Good morning,” Oikawa slurred, re-attaching himself to Iwaizumi’s chest.  
Finally being able to move his arm, Iwaizumi flexed it once before changing into a different, more comfortable position.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Much better than yesterday, that’s for sure,” Oikawa replied, smiling a tired, lopsided smile.

Iwaizumi leaned down and pressed a kiss on his forehead, satisfied with that answer.  
“Good. Remember what you promised?”

He expected Oikawa’s face to instantly scrunch up like the child he usually acted like, but instead, he simply nodded.  
“Yep. I’ve also been thinking. . . I’m going to try and talk to Kunimi.”

“Wow. . . You’re being mature for once.”

“Iwa-chan, it’s too early to insult me!”

“It is _never_ too early to insult you. Besides, it was a compliment, too.”

Groaning, Oikawa rolled on top of Iwaizumi, lazily spreading himself across.

“. . . Hey Iwa-chan, do you think there’s life up on the stars and the moon?”  
“We are not going to have this conversation. Not now, not ever.”  
“What if there are humans living on the stars?”  
“No.”  
“But what if!”  
“No.”  
“Iwa-ch-- Ow!”

Waking up next to Oikawa Tooru may be like a fairy tale, but only up until he opens his mouth.

While Oikawa is still rolling on the floor, his hands covering his head, Iwaizumi neatly folded the blanket.  
They were both only wearing baggy pants, so he easily changes into a new pair of clothing.

“Hurry up!” he barked at Oikawa, who he caught staring at him from the floor.  
Oikawa scrambled up, snatching some of Iwaizumi’s clothes instead of walking to his own room next door, sticking out his tongue.

“I’m going to see if Kunimi’s awake and if he minds talking to me, while you go inform the others that we’re going to have a meeting,” Oikawa ordered as he pulled the shirt over his head.  
“Better get this over with as soon as possible.”

“I’m sure they’ll all listen to you,” Iwaizumi said, “Well, Kyoutani probably won’t. But you know what I mean.”

“What if they think we should attack, Iwa-chan?!”

“For fuck’s sake, we had this conversation last night! The way Shiratorizawa’s been acting lately is too chaotic and out of place for us to do anything about them, and attacking Karasuno is dumb because they have Nekoma and Fukurodani with them!”

“That’s right,” Oikawa nodded, reassured, “That’s right. Yeah.”

Walking to the door together, Oikawa messily pressed a kiss on Iwaizumi’s mouth.

“Tooru, morning breath!” Iwaizumi yelled after him as the other darted away.

“Touché, Iwa-chan, touché! But I don’t mind because I love you!” Oikawa sang, leaving Iwaizumi to grumble as he headed to the stairs.

Once Iwaizumi had disappeared downstairs, Oikawa took a deep breath.  
He knocked on the bedroom door, and listened.

No answer.

“Hey, Kunimi? I want to talk to you, if you’ll let me.”

It took a while, but when Oikawa almost gave up, the door creaked open.  
Kunimi stared at him silently, shuffling away to let the leader in.

Yahaba and Hanamaki had made sure Kunimi took care of himself, and apart from the red, puffed up skin underneath his eyes, he looked fine and well-fed.

Kunimi closed the door behind them, then sat down on his bed.  
With his arms close to his side and knees pulled up, he looked really small.

Oikawa sat down next to him, but made sure there was a comfortable space between them.  
He knew Kunimi most likely preferred it that way.

They sat in silence for a bit.

In the background, they could faintly hear Iwaizumi yelling at Kyoutani.

“. . . I should have noticed his behavior,” Oikawa then said.  
“I could have prevented it. I’m sorry.”

Kunimi swallowed, then shook his head.  
“You couldn’t have. Yuu has always been hyperfocused on Kageyama. He couldn’t let it go.”

His voice trembled.

Tentatively, Oikawa reached out and rested his hand on Kunimi’s shoulder.  
He felt the other shiver, but not pull away.  
He shifted, closing the distance between him and Kunimi.

Oikawa knew Kunimi hadn’t meant the words he said to him that night.  
It was anger.  
And Oikawa understood that feeling very well.

“I wish it had been me instead of him,” Kunimi whispered, leaning into Oikawa’s touch.  
“I-I wish. . .”

New tears welled up and rolled down his pale face.

Oikawa nearly cracked at the sight, biting his bottom lip.  
He then reached out with his other hand as well, and pulled Kunimi into his chest, safely holding him.  
There was a split moment of surprise, but then Kunimi wrapped his arms around Oikawa back as well, his tears staining his shirt, but it didn’t matter.

Kunimi savored the warmth of Oikawa’s body, the fear of their leader rejecting him after his outburst flowing away.  
He felt slender fingers caress through his hair in long strokes, ending in his nape, repeating and repeating.  
He clutched the fabric of Oikawa’s shirt between his own fingers, not planning on letting go anytime soon.

“I’m going to tell you something, before I tell the others,” Oikawa said.  
“. . . I’ve decided to not attack Karasuno. The herd from a month ago killed two of theirs, and we found out Nekoma and Fukurodani are currently with Karasuno because they need an ally.”

Kunimi listened.  
Of course, he would’ve loved to attack Karasuno, hunt down the ginger and watch him bleed.  
But if what Oikawa told him was true --and he didn’t doubt he was right-- even Aobajohsai would stand no chance.  
They might cut out a lot from them as well, but in the end, Aobajohsai would lose.

He sniffed.  
“. . . Okay, I. . . I agree, then,” Kunimi muttered, “As much as I. . . We would lose.”

Kunimi felt Oikawa’s chest heave heavily, once, in relief.

“I’m glad,” he heard him say, “I wasn’t sure if you. . . I would’ve loved to slaughter them as well. And we could, to some degree. In exchange for all our _own_ lives.”

Kunimi nodded, nestling himself into a comfortable position, against Oikawa.  
“It’d be a death mission. Not worth it.”

He was so glad.  
He didn’t know how to approach Oikawa himself, to apologize and just talk to him.  
Because he regretted saying those words to him.  
It wasn’t Oikawa’s fault.

Kunimi felt Oikawa’s face nuzzling into his hair, and usually, he would shrug him off-- but for once, he let himself enjoy their naturally affectionate leader’s actions.  
It didn’t take too long for him to fall asleep in Oikawa’s arms, with a warm feeling glowing in his chest.

**xxx**

The tension was palpable.

Further down the hallway, he saw one of. . . Fukurodani’s? . . . girls looking at them, too intimidated to approach.

Hinata tugged on his sleeve, but Kageyama continued to stare back into Kuroo’s fiery eyes.  
Suga had broken off a bit ago, entering the same room as Tanaka had went into.

“Sawamura already informed us,” Kuroo finally spoke up.  
“. . . Didn’t think I’d ever see _you_ again, especially not here.”

“Fate has its weird ways, sometimes,” Kageyama replied, clenching his jaw.

Kuroo started grinning, but the glint in his eyes warned Kageyama his grin didn’t mean anything.  
Not anything good, at least.  
“Aobajohsai finally got tired of you, huh? Always doing everything alone, complaining, surpassing your peers. . . Must’ve caused a rift.”

There it was.  
Even though Kageyama anticipated it, even though it has been months, it still hurt.  
So he wisely didn’t reply.

Hinata did get worked up about it, however.

“Shut up,” Hinata hissed, stepping out in front of Kageyama.  
“You don’t know what happened.”

He glared up at Kuroo, who raised one eyebrow in surprise.

“. . . Ah, you ran off yesterday, right? Don’t tell me you’re the reason the lonely King is here now,” Kuroo snorted, one hand on his hip.  
“Well, if I were you. . .”

He stepped around Hinata, his large hand landing on top of Kageyama’s shoulder.  
“. . . I’d watch your back. I can’t do anything directly about you, cause I don’t want to anger Sawamura, but. . .”

Kuroo paused, and his grin faltered again.

**“Fate has its weird ways, sometimes.”**

With a soft parting pat on Kageyama’s shoulder, Kuroo walked past them, sauntering up the stairs, leaving the two alone.

“. . . That was a threat,” Hinata whispered, eyes wide.

“No shit, dumbass,” Kageyama grumbled, grabbing Hinata’s arm and dragging him along.  
“Let’s go. I always watch my back, no need to worry.”

“Just sleep in my room,” Hinata stated.  
“My bedroom has a lock.”

“I don’t need--”  
But Kageyama quickly rethought.  
Kuroo was dangerous, and it’s not like he was going to feel comfortable in this building with this many people anytime soon anyway.  
“. . . Fine.”

“Really?!”  
“Yeah, sure. I want to see your room, anyway. You seem like a collector of random useless things to me.”

Hinata turned red, pouting.  
“Shh! A-anyway, we’re going to meet some others!”

“Fantastic.”  
“Don’t scowl like that!”  
“I just got threatened by the leader of Nekoma.”  
“You said I didn’t need to worry!”

Well, Hinata got him there.

The corners of his lips twitched slightly into a smile.

Right then and there, Kageyama silently promised to protect this life with Hinata at all costs.

“This is Kiyoko! She’s our doctor, healer!”  
The female with beautiful long, black hair, waved at them from across the room, offering Kageyama a small smile.

The hearth room was packed with people.  
Half of them looking at Kageyama with suspicion, the other half with curiosity.

“That’s Tsukishima! He’s an asshole!”  
The only thing Tsukishima offered the two was a glare, before returning to the book about dinosaurs or something, that supposedly lived on Earth a long time ago --Hinata thought it was bullshit, he’d seen the pictures, no way those things were ever real.

“That’s Yamaguchi! He’s our best fisherman!”  
The freckled male next to Tsukishima grinned shyly, as if not completely sure what to think of Kageyama yet, which Kageyama, again, found completely fair.

“Then. . .” Hinata continued in a quieter tone, “There’s also Nishinoya. He’s. . . in the room Tanaka and Suga went into. I haven’t had the chance to talk to him yet, cause I’m a bit afraid, but. . . Tsukishima and Yamaguchi found him wandering around weeks after the herd had left the area. . .”

Kageyama knew where this was heading, and he felt a pang of guilt in his stomach.

“. . . Two of ours died because of the herd. . .”

His fault.

“. . . Our previous leader, Ukai, and Asahi. . .”

His fault.

“. . . Noya saw Asahi die. . .”

His fault.

“. . . Ukai was bitten protecting the orphanage. . .”

His fault.

Kageyama licked his lips, his gaze casted downwards.

“Anyway,” Hinata continued, “. . . Oh, Kenma’s not here. Well. . .”  
He hadn’t noticed Kageyama’s mental guilt trip.

“You-- you said you haven’t visited Nishinoya yet, right?” Kageyama asked.  
“You can do that now. I need to talk to Sawamura, anyway.”

Hinata looked up at him, surprised.  
Then he squinted his eyes.  
“. . . You can find your way around here?”

Kageyama nodded.

“You’re not going to cause a problem?”

Kageyama nodded again.

“You’re not--”  
“Go already, goddamn.”  
“Okay okay, shit, fine!”

Hinata turned around, took a few steps, and turned around again.  
“. . . Meet me in front of my room. It’s the third from the stairs, to the left.”

Then Hinata left.

Nobody paid any real attention to Kageyama, though he did catch a few glancing his way.  
Suga had told Hinata to not leave Kageyama alone, but both Hinata and himself trusted one another.  
If Kageyama did something wrong, it could end up being a problem for both of them.  
And Hinata knew Kageyama would never do that to him.

He left the hearth room, on his search for Sawamura Daichi.  
He slid his hand into his pocket, reassuringly squeezing the item inside.

The orphanage had so many rooms, if not for Kageyama’s natural good sense of direction, he would not be able to find his way around as easily as he currently did.  
It now made sense that Karasuno could house both Nekoma and Fukurodani as well.

He peeked inside one of the room, with the door open.  
A breeze blew right in his face as he did.

At the end of the room, a balcony.  
Today had been going a bit wrong for Kageyama on multiple occasions, but now he classified himself as pretty lucky.

Sawamura Daichi, leaning onto the railing of the balcony, staring out onto the plaza.  
Alone.

Now, Kageyama realised if he stayed silent and creeped up on him, he might get the wrong idea.  
They only really met an hour ago, and Kageyama did not want him to think he was going to be assassinated.

So he cleared his throat, remaining in the doorway.

Daichi’s head turned, surprised, but then softened.  
“Hey, Kageyama. Has Hinata properly shown you around?”

“He did, yes,” Kageyama replied, slowly shuffling further inside the room.  
It was pretty much empty, apart from a large, broken mirror and a few dusty chairs.  
“I, ehm. . . I have something to give you. I promise I’m not here to kill you.”

At that, Daichi laughed, a casual smile spreading across his face afterwards.  
“I didn’t think you would. Don’t worry, come over here.”

Sighing in relief, Kageyama hurried over to the balcony, stepping past the sliding glass doors.  
He still made sure there was a respectable distance.

He gazed onto the plaza as well, for a while, in silence, before reaching inside his pocket.  
He took out Michimiya’s compass.

Unfolding his hand, he showed it to Daichi, as he wasn’t sure if Daichi even knew who its original owner was.

But Daichi’s expression told Kageyama everything.  
Lips slightly parted, his eyes widened.  
He reached out, and with a confirming nod from Kageyama, gently took the compass.

He let his thumb slide over the smooth surface, past the crack in the glass.  
A sad, fond expression in his eyes.

“Me and Hinata originally lived with Kitagawa Daiichi. With many others. From what I can remember, we were suddenly attacked by another group one night.”

Daichi tore his gaze away from the compass, to look at Kageyama instead.

“Yui. . . she gave it to me. Told me to protect Hinata, and go to Tokyo. To find someone named Ukai Keishin, and otherwise Sawamura Daichi.”

The leader of Karasuno was usually good at keeping his emotions under control, but he couldn’t help the trembling of his lips, and the downward frown.

“So this. . . You can keep the compass, I think it was always meant for you. I’ve kept it with me, like a good luck charm. It always encouraged me in times of uncertainty. But I don’t need it anymore,” Kageyama concluded.

Clutching the compass tightly, Daichi nodded, his eyes glazing over.  
He swallowed.  
“. . . Thank you. I. . . never thought that. . .”

Daichi smiled again, not a sad one.  
A grateful one.

“. . . This means a lot to me,” he mumbled, and Kageyama nodded in understanding.  
He was ready to part with the item.

“I also used to live with Kitagawa Daiichi, that’s how me and Michimiya know each other,” Daichi then said, safely pocketing the compass .  
“Grew up with her. But then. . . well. . .”

He chuckled, a bit embarrassed.  
“One day, a group of survivors came by. A friendly bunch, lead by Ukai Ikkei and his son. Kitagawa Daiichi let them stay for a while, and we got to know the people. That’s how I met Suga.”

Now the earlier jab at Daichi by Suga made a whole lot more sense.  
Kageyama also realised Suga had compared him to Daichi.

“I, ehm. . . yeah. . . fell in love,” Daichi grimaced, “And decided to follow Suga and leave Kitagawa Daiichi behind. I hadn’t seen Michimiya again since.”

Kageyama silently rested on the railing now as well, much more relaxed since it seemed like even though Daichi could make some scary expressions, he didn’t have it out for Kageyama.  
He was prone to believing Daichi’s earlier words.  
That he really hoped Kageyama would fit in well with Karasuno.

Daichi coughed to break the silence.  
“You said you didn’t need the compass anymore? Why’s that, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I don’t need an item from the past anymore. The future is what I’m focused on,” Kageyama replied.  
“Besides, I have Hinata now. He’ll be my new good luck charm.”

Daichi felt stunned by those words.  
Kageyama initially struck him as someone to himself, perhaps not good with words, rather showing with actions.  
Maybe he used to be more like that in the past.

“I see,” Daichi hummed.  
“That’s a great way of thinking.”

After that, the two didn’t engage in talking anymore, a comfortable silence settling, watching the sunset make way for the upcoming night sky.

**xxx**

Hinata opened the door and peeked inside.  
Suga looked up, then encouragingly smiled at Hinata.

“Noya, Hinata’s here,” he hummed, gesturing to the door.  
He stood up from the chair, and Hinata hesitantly replaced him.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me,” Suga said, before closing the door behind them and Hinata was alone with Nishinoya.

The latter sat up straight in his bed, watching Hinata.  
He didn’t look much better from yesterday.  
His blond tuft of hair hang idly, flat against his forehead.

Tsukishima had been right.  
Hinata could tell with one good look.  
This wasn’t the Nishinoya they once knew.

“H-hey,” Hinata squeaked, “I’m sorry for not visiting earlier.”

“That’s okay,” Noya replied with a nod, “I saw you arriving out the window with that other guy. You were holding hands. . .”

Hinata flushed red, looking away.  
“Y-yeah. . . we. . . we were. . .”  
He coughed.  
“How are you feeling?”

Noya shrugged.  
“. . . Everyone asked that already. I’m not fine. But I don’t want anyone to worry, so I just say I’m fine. It’s not like I’m feeling sad or anything. . .”

Hinata bit his lip, suppressing the overwhelming sadness he felt.

“. . . I just. . . don’t feel much of anything, you know?”

Hinata didn’t want to bring back any bad memories, so he refrained from asking about the weeks Nishinoya was alone.  
He was really curious about how he even survived, but that may be a question he’ll never get an answer to.

“I’ve really missed you, it wasn’t the same without you around,” Hinata mumbled softly, reaching out and grabbing Noya’s hand.  
Noya smiled a bit.

“Oh, Shouyou. . . Make sure to always keep him close,” Noya then said, gazing out of the window.  
“Before it’s too late.”

“What. . . do you mean?”

“You know _who_ I mean. Think ahead at all times. Or else you’ll lose him.”  
“I-I will try. . .”  
“Promise me.”  
“Promise you?”  
“That you never. . . never, think everything will be okay. Because it won’t. And things _will_ go wrong.”

Hinata opened his mouth, and closed it again.

Things will go wrong.

A rule of thumb, one could say.

Nishinoya was warning Hinata.  
To not assume things will go well.  
That if he’s not careful. . .

He might lose Kageyama for real.

“I promise,” Hinata replied, determined.

“Good. Good. . . “  
Noya closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in, and out.  
“Shouyou. What do I do?”

“W-what?”

“There’s nothing left for me here.”

Oh.  
Oh no.  
Hinata was not good with these kind of situations, when the whole mood suddenly dropped multiple levels at once.

“E-ehm. . . There is. . . Asahi’s garden was destroyed in a storm. A few of us tried to regrow some crops and flowers, you know. . . so that Asahi. . . in a way. . .”  
Hinata swallowed.  
He was treading on thin ice by mentioning Asahi.

“Maybe you could try instead. . .”

When Noya didn’t reply, Hinata looked up in panic, ready to try and save this conversation.  
Instead, he saw silent tears rolling down Noya’s face, looking equally as surprised to see those liquid drops as Hinata.

“I-I. . . I could do that. . .” he whispered, before finally flashing Hinata a real, genuine smile, through his tears.  
“You’re right. To remember. . . to never forget. . .”

Hinata smiled back, never more relieved before.  
Flopping onto Noya’s bed, he hugged the man tightly, though careful not to smother him.

“We’re always at your side, Noya. All of us.”

**xxx**

Standing on top of the table, with crossed arms, Oikawa took his time to look at every single face in the circle around him.  
On the couch, on the lounging chairs, and Kyoutani on the carpet watched over by Iwaizumi, with a grumpy expression.

“Are we doing a summoning ritual?” Matsukawa asked.

“To summon a demon? I mean, we already have Oikawa though. . .” Hanamaki joined.

“You’re right, one demon is enough, we don’t need any more here,” Matsukawa concluded.

“No, we’re not!” Oikawa firmly said, “I’m not a demon, first off! We’re here to discuss what to do about our current. . . problem. Regarding Shiratorizawa and Karasuno, Nekoma and Fukurodani.”

Everyone had gathered.  
Even Kunimi, though he already knew Oikawa’s decision.

They all looked surprised when Oikawa came downstairs with a sleeping Kunimi in his arms, but felt immensely relieved, and the overall gloomy mood hanging over them for the past few days slowly lifted.

“We’re trapped, quite literally,” Oikawa started, “I think Nekoma and Fukurodani will end up teaming up with Karasuno. On the other side, we have Shiratorizawa, who has been attacking us in frequent bursts and with more aggression than usual.”

“So, we have to gamble on the best outcome? We get attacked by Karasuno, Nekoma and Fukurodani, we’ll lose. We get attacked by Shiratorizawa, we might lose. We don’t do anything. . . and anything can happen. We attack any of the two groups, and we risk losing people for nothing.”

Yahaba summed it up perfectly.

“Exactly! . . . I know, that we all want to make Karasuno pay for what they did to Kindaichi. I know. I feel the same.”  
Oikawa paused, glancing around once again, for his own reassurance.  
“However. . .’

“If we attack, we’d just die. Even if we take out some of them,” Iwaizumi finished.

“You know, I don’t think you had to use Iwaizumi to make us all stay for this meeting,” Kyoutani spoke up, “I thought it’d be obvious we would back off from attacking anyone.”

“Right? If they want to fight us, they’re going to have to come to us,” Matsukawa added.

“Oikawa, did you think we wouldn’t agree with you? That we’d want to launch an attack on Karasuno?” Hanamaki asked, tilting his head.

Oikawa helplessly shrugged, taking aback.  
“I mean. . . You’re saying we wouldn’t, a year ago?”

“A year ago, yes,” Yahaba nodded, “ _A year ago._ ”

Oikawa blinked.  
He looked at Iwaizumi for help.

But the man just smiled smugly, proud, his arms crossed as he slumped back into the chair.

“Well,” Oikawa said, “I did not expect this.”

They always had his back.  
No matter what.  
Oikawa should’ve known by now this was the case.

A defeated smile made its way onto his face, barely containing a just as proud grin.  
He stepped down from the table onto the soft carpet.

“What would I do without you guys?!” he cried out.

“Die,” Iwaizumi said.

“Wither away.”  
Hanamaki.

“Bleed out from a paper cut.”  
Matsukawa.

“Drown in a puddle.”  
Kyoutani.

“Cease to exist.”  
Yahaba.

“Join Shiratorizawa.”  
Kunimi.

“Oh my god, I would _not_ join Shiratorizawa!” Oikawa shrieked, fervently shaking his head.  
“Never! I don’t care what Ushiwaka says!”

“Wait, that’s what you’re offended about?!” Matsukawa laughed, biting his lip.

“Of course that’s the worst option to him,” Hanamaki muttered, hiding his own smile with his hand.

“Yes! I can’t imagine life without Iwa-chan!” Oikawa retorted, spreading across the couch Kunimi and Yahaba sat on.  
“Life without Aobajohsai is a life not worth living!”

“Those are some dramatic words you spout,” Iwaizumi said, “ _Shittykawa_ , you would do just fine without us.”

“Why are we even talking about this? Are you guys planning on leaving me?!”

“A tempting idea,” Hanamaki glanced at Matsukawa, who knowingly nodded along.  
“Maybe we should.”

“Yahaba, you hear that?” Oikawa whined, burying his face into Yahaba’s stomach, wrinkling the fabric.  
“Even Iwa-chan doesn’t care.”

Yahaba simply petted Oikawa’s hair while nodding.  
“Yes, yes. What a monster.”

“Anyway,” Iwaizumi interrupted, immune to Oikawa cries, “We’re all in agreement? We don’t launch any attacks, but we wait. If any of the two groups do decide to attack us, they’re going to have to come to us.”

“We’re going to limit going out as much as usual.”  
Oikawa rolled on his other side, away from Yahaba, facing the others once again.  
“We don’t change the rule of three going out at once. We’re going to avoid the borders with their territories, and only hunt in the forest.”

“Sounds good to me,” Matsukawa nodded.

“I’m more worried about Karasuno and their allies than Shiratorizawa at this point, wow,” Hanamaki mumbled.  
“Never thought that day would come.”

“We’ll get through this,” Yahaba said, “Like we always have. Something is bound to happen, and everything we’re worrying about may end up useless.”

Jumping up from the couch, Oikawa spread his arms wide open.  
“Group hug!”

Iwaizumi and Kyoutani collectively grumbled, Matsukawa rolled his eyes, but Kunimi and Yahaba willingly latched onto Oikawa.

Hanamaki stood up with a smile, “We haven’t had one in forever, Oikawa.”  
But then he shrugged, leaving Matsukawa behind to join the three.

“It’s pretty nice, you know!” Oikawa called out, holding the half-circle together as his eyes passed over the remaining three.  
“You’re going to regret passing up this moment for the rest of your lives!”

Acting reluctant, Iwaizumi sauntered over and joined on Kunimi’s side.  
“This is stupid.”

“You’re stupid!” Oikawa sneered, “C’mon! Mattsun, Kyouken-chan!”

Slotting right against Hanamaki, Matsukawa pushed his fist into Oikawa’s hair, who he could barely reach, with a laugh.

Oikawa squawked in defiance, but let it happen since he couldn’t really break the group hug now.

All eyes were fixed on Kyoutani, who narrowed his eyes even further at their grinning faces, sweaty hands and. . .

Camaraderie.

He stood up, and closed the gap between Matsukawa and Iwaizumi.  
He huffed once, but soon let himself be swept away by the overwhelming feeling of connection and trust.

They were all smiling, or at least felt like smiling, hands clamping onto each other’s backs.

Oikawa took a deep breath.  
His mind wandered to those words Iwaizumi told him, when Oikawa was close to giving up.

The same feeling he felt back then overtook his entire body.

“Rule the court!” -- Oikawa yelled.

Everyone fell silent for a split second.  
The sentence Oikawa only heard once before, and only he and Iwaizumi were now the ones to have ever spoken it.

Then, as if their hearts all beat as one--

_“Rule the court!”_

Repeated, in synchronization, by everyone.  
Nobody knew _why_.  
Nobody even knew what it meant.

But they all felt like they had to respond to Oikawa.

That one sentence, felt like their battle cry.

Their reason to go on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	17. Unsafe Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, bygones will be bygones.
> 
> Also, connections to another life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll like this chapter cause I've let myself indulge a little bit at the end.
> 
> Some of you might've noticed I edited the summary of this fic-- because this work is being translated into Chinese!  
> It already started a while ago, but I forgot to add it in somewhere.
> 
> Oh, and if you feel like this chapter is shorter than usual, you would be right.

Shirabu should’ve said something about it before it was too late.

When he heard Semi’s breathing becoming irregular, short and hitched.  
When he met Akaashi’s blue eyes and saw his own worry reflected.

One unfortunate misstep.

And Semi sprained his ankle.

Shirabu saw how his foot bent in such a way he felt nauseous.  
Akaashi was sent tumbling across the street, scraping his legs along the stone.

“Semi!”  
Shirabu hurried to his side, doing a quick look-over, seeing how fast Semi was breathing.  
Exhausted.  
Sweat rolling down his neck and arms.

Akaashi quickly followed, rubbing his arms, bending down on Semi’s other side.

They’d been running for a while now, alternating between actual running and fast-walking.  
The herd wasn’t necessarily after them, it was simply sent into their direction.  
Not that that was any sort of reassurance.

After exiting Fukurodani’s forest, they went straight into Nekoma territory.  
The large, neverending lake where the sun disappeared into, on their left.

It was easier traveling through city than forest.  
And yet. . .

They’d been running for a long time, with Akaashi clamped on Semi’s back.

Semi was getting tired.  
His muscles started to really sting.  
His mouth was dry.

Shirabu had told him many times before, if there was one prominent flaw Semi had, it would be how he overcompensated.  
And now that flaw made its debut yet again.

Semi grumbled as he pushed against the red swelling on the side of his foot.  
His muscles continued to sting, he legs felt like bricks and he felt paralyzed in place.

All out in the open, in the middle of Nekoma territory.  
Semi was a firm believer in Nekoma not being here at all, instead having gone to Karasuno with Fukurodani, but this felt nerve wracking nonetheless.

“You _idiot_ ,” Shirabu hissed, “What’d I tell you?! If you need a break, we take a goddamn break!”

Semi breathed out an equally annoyed sigh.  
“It would’ve been fine if not for that fucking stray rock!”

He grabbed the relatively large rock on his side, the perpetrator of his misstep, and threw it as far away as he could, in childish frustration.  
“Goddamnit! Stupid piece of shit fucking--”

Akaashi reassuringly pat Semi’s head, as if he were used to this kind of attitude, while keeping an eye on their surroundings.

Shirabu opened up his bag, rummaging through, to hopefully find some kind of bandaging.  
And he did, thank god.  
For once, he felt immensely glad for Semi’s need to pack everything he possibly could.

“Will this help?” Shirabu asked, holding up the soft, white roll.

“Temporarily,” Semi replied, having calmed down a bit again, though still severely unhappy with himself.  
“. . . I’ll need cold water or something else alike if I want the swelling to calm down.”

Shirabu swallowed, his fingers trembling slightly as he pulled the drenched fabric of the sock further down.  
The swelling had grown even further.

He felt Semi’s burning gaze on him, and he suddenly felt shy.  
Not enough to stop trying to treat this injury, though.

Akaashi coughed.  
If he didn’t say anything now, then. . .  
Semi and Shirabu were both focused on the task at hand, and so they didn’t notice--

“Walker,” Akaashi said.  
His voice still not like his own at all, raspy and hoarse.  
But it felt good.  
His tongue finally, finally listened to him again.

Only Semi heard him, who threw Akaashi a surprised but delighted glance.

He saw him reach for Shirabu, pressing close to him as his hand snaked around his waist and grabbed one of the guns.  
Before Shirabu even realised what happened, Semi leaned on one side to look past Shirabu’s shoulder, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

Confidently.  
With no hesitation.  
Akaashi was impressed by how Shirabu didn’t even try to look behind himself, at what Semi shot.  
He just trusted that Semi would get rid of it.  
That he’d succeed.

The Walker fell dead to the ground.

A shiver ran down Akaashi’s spine.

He realised how lucky he’d been.  
That Semi had felt sympathy for him, locked up in a cell, all alone.

Confirming what Akaashi always believed.  
Nobody is completely evil or completely good.  
Though that rule had changed in regards to Ushijima and Tendou, but it still counted for, quite literally, everyone else.

The gunshots did attract more Walkers, urging them out of the dark shadows of the city.  
Just as Shirabu tied the knot, finalizing his somewhat messy but still welldone wrapping, Semi shot another Walker-- before pushing the gun into Akaashi’s hands.

Shirabu heaved Semi up again, his arm slung around the taller man’s waist.

While Akaashi still stared at the weapon in his hands with utter surprise, Shirabu called out to him to help them out.  
Quickly, he joined on Semi’s other side, mimicking Shirabu’s actions.

Did he still remember how to shoot?  
Could he still. . . ?

Only one way to find out.

Adjusting to Semi’s tempo, Akaashi aimed for a Walker lurching at them out of an alleyway.  
The gun didn’t completely feel out of place in his hand, but still-- he’d have to get used to it again.

The bullet shot past the Walker’s head, breaking off only small pieces of skull.  
Narrowing his eyes, Akaashi tried again.

This time, it pierced through its forehead, and it fell backwards, dead once more.

Silently, Akaashi cheered for himself, his own confidence flowing back into his body.  
He could still do it.  
Not as accurate as before, but he expected worse.

Semi hobbled along, clearly distraught about the whole situation.  
He was slowing them down.  
They were a good distance away from the herd, but they could be cornered by stray Walkers.

“Let’s. . . let’s just find a place to spend the night,” Semi huffed, “We can go to their hideout tomorrow.”

Shirabu agreed.  
They’d have to see how Semi’s ankle looked like tomorrow.

He tried not to think about it too much.  
All he’d been to Semi these past few days was mean and distant, because they had a plan, and they could’ve been away from Tokyo by now--  
But they weren’t.  
This wouldn’t have happened if they were.

Semi was in pain, and in turn, it pained Shirabu to see him like that.  
Struggling to act like it didn’t hurt as bad as it actually did.

“Ne. . . Nekoma. . . ship,” Akaashi said, turning his head towards the neverending lake.  
They just entered onto a little plaza, in the harbor, out of the inner city of Tokyo.

“Wait, really? That’s. . . ? That’s Nekoma’s hideout?”  
A pleasant surprise.  
He and Semi both thought it’d be further away, but neither have actually ever been this close to Nekoma’s ship before.

The sun illuminated the small cruise ship from behind, partway down the sea already.  
Thick ropes and a metal gangway connected the ship to the dock.

Nobody stood guard.  
No living soul to be found, exiting the ship to meet them, no yelling or people roaming the deck.

“. . . It’s abandoned,” Semi muttered, “. . . right?”

Akaashi slowly nodded.  
It seemed like it was abandoned, but god knows, Nekoma might have seen them coming and decided to hide and launch a surprise attack-- it sounded like something Nekoma would definitely do, but. . .

A gut feeling told him they were right.  
It was abandoned.

“Well, we’re not going to find many places more safe than this ship,” Shirabu stated, “So I think we should spend the night here.”

“Yeah. Tomorrow we’ll see how my ankle is faring. . .” Semi trailed, glancing to his left at Akaashi.  
“You agree?”

Akaashi nodded again.  
His feet were sore, even though Semi carried him so far.  
Tired, too.  
He could barely stand straight with the added weight of Semi.  
But he didn’t mind.  
This was the least he could do for the people who saved him.

Akaashi entered the ship first.  
He more or less knew they layout, and quickly checked inside the rooms to be sure of its abandonment.  
Shirabu helped Semi up onto the ship, then proceeded to pull the gangway onto the deck.  
They wouldn’t want to be sneaked on by any Walkers deciding to check out the ship.  
The thick ropes would do their job holding the vessel in place, as it has been doing for years.

Despite the soft bobbing making Shirabu feel unsteady, he felt like this boat was the second best hideout he’d seen.  
Shiratorizawa’s was still the most efficient one.

Semi stumbled onto the leather couches build into the walls, moaning in relief.  
He stretched out his leg, glaring at it as if it personally did him dirty-- which it did, according to Semi.

Akaashi meanwhile sauntered around on the deck, leaning on the railing, taking in the view.  
The waves carrying foam, the large half of the now orange sun on the horizon, and they were safe from the Walkers.  
The one negative point would be Semi’s ankle.

But they survived yet another day.  
Wandering the streets of Tokyo with a total of three people, one unable to talk properly and the other unable to walk or run, being urged to hurry up by a herd in their general direction--  
It was a miracle nobody has been bitten yet.

Maybe it was because Shirabu felt more in sync with Akaashi than he did before.  
That he grew past his irritation for the sake of his and Semi’s dream.

Shirabu tied a firm knot around the metal bar of the bucket, before throwing it overboard into the sea.  
He moved it around a bit until the water started to stream in and sink the bucket down further.  
When it was completely filled up, he pulled it via the rope back in.

Semi had already unwrapped his temporary bandaging, examining his own ankle.  
A bloated circle of red, heated to the touch, throbbing painfully.

“For fuck’s sake, I’m supposed to be the healer here,” he grumbled, carefully leveraging his foot into the bucket.  
The sea water stung, ice cold, rendering his foot numb within seconds.  
Naturally, it also numbed the pain.

Semi tightly gripped onto the edges of the couch, his body shivering.  
It still wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but he’d choose this over the pain.

Shirabu sat down next to him.  
He’d been uncharacteristically quiet for awhile.

“I’ll be fine, you know,” Semi said, gesturing towards the bucket.  
“I don’t think it’s a bad sprain, it’ll heal within a week.”

A low rumble exited through Shirabu’s throat, wrapping his arm around Semi’s, pressing himself against the older man.  
He rested his head on Semi’s shoulder.

A few feet away, Akaashi continued to calmly gaze, while the two lovers sat and watched the same sky.

Semi pressed a kiss on Shirabu’s forehead, who, in response, huddled closer and smiled, ever so slightly.  
They didn’t need words to convey how glad they were, knowing very well their lives could’ve been much worse by now.  
How many things could have gone wrong.

Leaving Shiratorizawa had been a good choice.  
Maybe now the likes of Aobajohsai, and if Semi’s theory was correct, Karasuno-Nekoma-Fukurodani, stood a chance against the three most skillful players of Tokyo.  
Ushijima, Tendou and Goshiki.

“How are you doing?” Semi whispered, his fingers running along Shirabu’s thigh, reassuringly.  
And Shirabu be damned if he didn’t enjoy this touching either.

“I should be the one asking you that,” Shirabu replied, covering Semi’s hand with his own, interlacing their fingers soon enough.  
“. . . ‘m fine. I know I’ve been. . . grumpy a lot. . .”

“You’re always grumpy, I’m used to it,” Semi laughed, watching that too familiar pout form on Shirabu’s face.  
“Kidding, kidding. Well, not really, but. . . Don’t worry. It won’t ever change.”

“It won’t ever change?”

Their noses touching, Shirabu saw the skin around Semi’s eyes crinkle, a fond spark shimmering.

“How much I love you.”

Shirabu wanted to hit Semi for a line _that_ cheesy, but it was also romantic, and he hated how his own cheeks warmed up.  
He didn’t even trust his own voice to properly reply.

Semi’s breathing tingled against his lips, teasingly, as if daring Shirabu to show off.  
So to skip talking all together, Shirabu chased Semi’s touch, slotting their lips together.

He missed this.  
Shirabu wouldn’t admit it to Semi, though, because he was sure he already knew.  
They always touched, whether simply holding hands or more intimate, yet these past few days have been nearly void of those.

Understandably.  
Shirabu knew why.  
They fled Shiratorizawa, and brought with them a third companion.

Yet.

Shirabu liked reassurance.

They break away again, only for Semi to add on a quick peck, laced with affection.

Semi then lifted his foot out of the bucket, water sloshing over the edges onto the deck, inspecting the injury.  
It seemed like the swelling hadn’t increased in size anymore.

“We just. . .”  
Semi threw his hands up in the air in frustration.  
“We’ll just. . . Goddamnit. Shit. Fuck.”

“You know, we’re going to have to stay here for a few days, anyway,” Shirabu concluded.  
“That herd’s coming our way. I bet this harbor will be covered in Walkers tomorrow.”

“Goddamn Tendou,” Semi cursed, “Well, I guess we did steal his experiment out from under his nose.”

“It’s what he deserves,” Shirabu added.  
“I don’t doubt you were right.”

“About what?”

“That he was going to use us as experiments, at some point. Maybe not in the way like he did with Akaashi, but. . .”

“Yeah. Yeah, I understand.”

Shirabu looked at Akaashi’s frame leaning against the railing.  
He must miss his group.  
The people he was torn away from.

“We’re going to get him to Fukurodani.”

Semi flashed him a surprised, amused smile.  
“You’ve come to like Akaashi?”

Shirabu flushed red, looking away quickly.  
“. . . I-I just think it’s the right thing to do. And it’s not like we have any other choice anymore.”

He felt weight being added on his other side.

Akaashi looked at him with such a warm expression, Shirabu didn’t understand why he hadn’t opened up to Akaashi’s presence earlier.

The two men effectively imprisoned Shirabu in between them, knowing glances being exchanged in silence, as Shirabu buried his head into Semi’s shoulder once more, strangely content.

**xxx**

If anyone were to walk in on this sight right now, while being aware of the different groups and their relationships, they’d probably go right into shock.

Nekoma, Fukurodani, Karasuno and Kageyama, all in one singular room in the orphanage.  
It was so quiet, the sound of the fire crackling was the only sound they could hear.  
That, and people’s breathing.

There was literally no walking space left.

Hinata had resorted to settling on Kageyama’s lap, both to make room for Suga and to shield Kageyama from Nekoma’s staring.  
Some in the room didn’t seem to pick up on the atmosphere or simply didn’t care, under which Lev and Tsukishima respectively.

They were supposed to be having dinner, but. . .  
It wasn’t that they didn’t have enough food.  
They did, although some hunting would have to be done real soon.

It was just really, really awkward.

Daichi clasped his hands together and scraped his throat.  
“Alright. I have noticed that there are some apparent issues between Nekoma and Kageyama. We’re going to resolve that right now, because nobody wants to deal with that tension while living in this place.”

Hinata moved out of the way enough so that Kageyama could look past him, wiggling in the small space between the armrest of the couch and Kageyama.  
Admittedly, he was a bit afraid of Nekoma’s leader, yet Kageyama didn’t seem to be as nervous.

A whole change of how he reacted when first entering the orphanage, which Hinata found peculiar, but didn’t dwell on it.  
It probably had to do with a deeper rooted problem.

“Kuroo, if you will. . .” Daichi continued, “Explain what happened.”

“Four years ago, he killed someone from Nekoma,” Kuroo stated, subdued.  
Hinata knew, Kuroo wasn’t dumb, he wasn’t going to be threatening and forceful in a room filled with this many people.  
“Someone important.”

“And who might that be?”  
Daichi had a guess.

“Our previous leader, Nekomata Yasufumi.”

Collective gasps sounded all throughout the room.  
Daichi’s guess was confirmed.

Kageyama looked away from their curious, fearful glances.

Hinata’s mouth just fell open.  
The previous leader of Nekoma.  
Said to rival Ukai Ikkei’s skills, the old Karasuno leader Hinata never knew.  
But if any of Suga’s stories about him were true. . .

“Oh my god,” he whispered, “You killed the leader of--?!”

Kageyama grumbled in response.  
“. . . It was either him or me.”

Flabbergasted, would describe exactly how Hinata felt.  
Because this meant that, when the old leader was killed, Kageyama was less skillful than he is now.  
Four years younger.  
And still managed to kill the leader of Nekoma’s group.

“Okay,” Daichi sighed, “And you can’t let bygones be bygones, Kuroo? This happened four years ago.”

“Perhaps, but--”

Already, Daichi seemed tired of this whole dispute.  
Though he seemed tired in general.

Suga already kind of knew where this whole conversation was heading towards, and braced himself.  
He’d noticed Daichi seemed to really like Kageyama, for reasons Suga had yet to figure out, but he only felt glad about it.  
Because Suga firmly believed Kageyama Tobio wasn’t a bad person.

“You know,” Daichi interrupted, rubbing the side of his head, “Karasuno is letting bygones be bygones in regards to Nekoma. Otherwise you wouldn’t be roaming around our hideout freely right now, cause you’d be dead.”

Kuroo stood up, though Kenma weakly urged him not to.  
Yaku’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything, while Lev looked as clueless as ever.  
Which nobody blamed him for; Lev hadn’t known the old leader at all, nor did he experience firsthand the betrayal of Kuroo.

“Oh, I see,” Kuroo hummed, “Does that mean we should just let everything slide, then?”

Sarcasm.  
“Kageyama isn’t even part of Karasuno, no need to stick up for him,” he then added.

Suga cocked his head, ready to drop his own nice act and tell Kuroo exactly how he felt about Nekoma barging in Karasuno territory--  
But Daichi got to it first.

“He’s not yet, no. Not officially. But he might be, in the near future. And he’s a very skilled person,” Daichi retorted, “And you’re not taking that away from us with your petty feelings of year old revenge.”

Kageyama stayed obediently silent this whole time, slightly unnerving Hinata.  
But when he felt the tightening of Kageyama’s grip on him, and how he buried his forehead into Hinata’s shoulder, he knew this was Kageyama actively trying not to get angry or snap.

Kageyama wasn’t going to ruin this for himself and Daichi and Hinata and everyone else.  
He wouldn’t deny it felt nice, though.  
It felt nice, that someone stuck up for him.  
Just like how Hinata jumped in front of him earlier, when they met with Kuroo in the hallway.

When Kuroo didn’t reply, Daichi continued.  
“You stole from us, resulting into Takeda’s death. We’re all glad to see that the medicine saved at least one person.”

A knowing nod towards Kenma.  
With no bad feelings attached in that regard.  
“. . . Yet, I think we’ve made it clear that Karasuno is past that now.”

Kuroo’s cat eyes went from Daichi to Kageyama --lingering on Hinata-- back to Daichi.  
Contemplating.  
Now he had to decide.  
He had to decide the best course of action for Nekoma and Fukurodani, because this would impact their relationship with Karasuno.

“. . . Okay,” Kuroo said, after a long while.  
He sat back down.  
“Fine. I’ll. . . let bygones be bygones.”

“Good,” Daichi nodded, “Smart.”  
He glanced at Kageyama.  
“. . . I still recommend you be careful, but at least everyone here present knows about Kuroo’s promise,” he said, in a softer voice.

“If he does something now, he might even be shunned by Fukurodani,” Hinata whispered into Kageyama’s ear.  
“But really. . . You’re even more awesome than I thought you were.”

“W-well. . . It’s not like I wanted to kill the old man, but he was out to kill me as well. Him, or me. Besides. . .” he trailed, now leaning in as well, closer to Hinata.  
“. . . I had some help.”

“ _What?!_ I mean. . . What?”

“Iwaizumi was with me at the time. Not when I fought the guy, but Iwaizumi was in the area, and when he caught wind of what was happening, he ran to help me,” Kageyama whispered again, after making sure nobody could hear him.  
“The guy heard Iwaizumi moving through the forest, got distracted, and I took that moment to. . . well. . . you know.”

“Iwaizumi is very close to Oikawa, isn’t he? With the spikey hair?”

Kageyama nodded.  
“He and Oikawa are like. . . completely in sync. As if they’re linked physically and mentally.”

Hinata listened to Kageyama’s every word.  
The man hadn’t talked much about his previous group to Hinata at all, and opened up about it for the first time.

“Well, I knew when you were in danger, so maybe we also have a link,” Hinata said, absentmindedly taking the piece of fish offered to him by Kiyoko, who went around handing food to everyone along with Yukie and Yaku.

Most seem to have settled again, and while some were still wary of both Kageyama and Kuroo, many made peace with the situation.

“I don’t know about that one,” Kageyama hummed, “But then again, maybe. Maybe. . .”  
He yawned.

Only then Hinata realised how exhausted he himself felt, too.  
Fitting against Kageyama, his arm loosely slung across his stomach, Hinata decided to simply observe the room and the people.

Bokuto and Kuroo had started talking with Tsukishima, Kenma attached to Kuroo’s arm, while Yukie and Kaori had taken to chatting with Yamaguchi and Yaku.

Tsukishima’s expression grew periodically more pissed as time went on, to Hinata’s delight, but stayed where he was until Suga went over to ask him a question.

That question seemed to be a good one, because Tsukishima nodded, put his book away and followed Suga through the mass of people.  
“Me and Tsukishima are going to take a breather, okay?”

Daichi nodded, “Just don’t be out for too long. There’s still time until it gets dark, but still.”

“Of course, of course,” Suga smiled, “Pretty sure Tsukishima would explode if he stayed here any longer, it’ll be a good distraction.”

The blonde simply nodded in agreement, glad to be able to get away from the overwhelming presence of Kuroo and Bokuto.

“Tobio, I’m tired,” Hinata whined, basking in Kageyama’s body heat.  
He felt the dark-haired man sigh loudly, his breath brushing against his forehead.

“Right. I am too, and you haven’t shown me your room yet, so,” he replied, stretching out his arms above his head.  
Nobody paid any attention to the two standing up from the couch, Hinata demanding to be carried while Kageyama continuously refused to do so.

That meal did Kageyama good, feeling drowsiness overtake him as they sauntered up the stairs.  
He felt a lot more comfortable around the orphanage already --not that he trusted Kuroo yet, but he did trust Daichi and Suga.  
He didn’t know what to think of many of the others yet, but he knew it would come with time.

Hinata’s room looked different than he expected, yet also a lot like the mental image he had of it.

It was colorful.  
It felt. . . nostalgic.  
It smelled like grass, like the sun, and just like Hinata.

How exactly the sun smelled like, however, Kageyama couldn’t tell you.

He watched Hinata bouncing around, as if he hadn’t claimed to be tired just minutes ago, grabbing stuff and showing it to Kageyama.  
With the door safely locked behind them, Kageyama felt like he could finally, truly relax.

Something hit his chest.  
A ball fell to the ground with a thump, and an excited squeak from Hinata.  
It didn't really bounce.

Frowning, Kageyama picked it up, and turned it around.

“‘Mikasa’? What does that even mean?”

“Oh, so that’s what it says?” Hinata said, shrugging.  
“Maybe it’s someone’s name? The original owner?”

Kageyama liked the feel, the texture of the ball, in his hands.  
He threw it back to Hinata, who caught it and put it back on the shelf.

While he rummaged around, Kageyama sat down onto the soft bed in the corner, nearby the window.  
He took in the sight of the bedroom again.

Curtains shoved aside to let the sun in, various items decorating shelves somewhat slanted, an unused, crooked desk in another corner.  
It felt just so. . . Hinata.

“Look!” Hinata held up a square paper, before handing it to Kageyama.

It was a picture.  
A photo, with something scribbled on the back.  
The photo still had vague colors in some places.

Kageyama squinted his eyes at it.  
A very weird feeling spread throughout his body.

A group of people, in front of a building, in front of a large, teal banner.  
They seemed happy.  
Smiling, some holding up their hands with two fingers stretched out, pointing up at the sky.

Looking at it, Kageyama felt. . .

_No, it couldn’t be._

He recognized those people.

_No way._

That’s not possible.

He looked up at Hinata, who gazed back at him with large, curious eyes.

“What does it say on the back?” Hinata asked, “I’ve never really. . . shown it, to other people. Don’t laugh at me, but. . .”

He inched closer towards Kageyama.  
“I think this picture is really, really important.”

Kageyama swallowed.  
With trembling fingers, he turned the thin piece of paper around.

Three words.

Kageyama opened his mouth to say it out loud, but he couldn’t.  
Hinata caught on, his expression turning even more serious.

“What does it say, Tobio?” he whispered in anticipation.

In beautiful, thin handwriting.

“It says,” Kageyama started, his mouth dry, forcing himself to look at Hinata.

Why did he feel this way, with this picture?  
Why do these people in the photo look like people he knew?  
Why--

“Rule the court.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	18. Bloody Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, moves are being made.
> 
> Also, it only took them thirty minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well--  
> I know you're going to love this chapter.
> 
> I've also started planning my next fic in this Reincarnation AU series!  
> I might start writing and publishing that one alongside this one, so keep your eyes peeled for that!

“Shou, I think I’m going crazy,” Kageyama muttered, falling back onto Hinata’s bed.  
He held the photo up high in the air.

“I’m not surprised, you’re always so on edge,” Hinata hummed, flopping down next to him.  
“Okay, but, why do you think that?”

“These people, they look like. . . Look, that guy looks like Oikawa! Not completely, of course, there are differences, but. . .? Right? Am I crazy? . . . _Help?_ ”

“Ooh. . . Huh. . . You sure? I mean, I can’t really. . . I’ve probably only seen Oikawa in the flesh once, and I can’t even remember when.”

“Look at that guy, that’s-- isn’t that Kindaichi?!”

Hinata squinted his eyes.  
The picture wasn’t all that clear.

“. . . He does kinda look like a turnip,” Hinata finally concluded.

“Now what’s a ‘turnip’?”  
“I. . . have no idea.”  
“Then why-- how?!”  
“I-I don’t know! He just looks like one!”  
_“But you don’t even know what a turnip is?!”_

The two stared at each other for what seemed like hours.  
Kageyama rose one eyebrow.  
Hinata mimicked him, and looked ridiculous while doing so.

Kageyama sighed.  
“. . . What the fuck. Shouyou, where’d you even find this picture?”

Hinata searched through his memories, biting down on his bottom lip.  
“. . . When me, Ukai, Suga and Daichi went on a trip to visit Datekou. In one of the rooms of their hideout, which used to apparently be a school or something, there was this huge pile of old documents.”

“And you decided to dig through it and somehow found this photo?”

“Nope,” Hinata gave him a coy smile, “It laid right on top, and I stole it.”

“You stole it.”  
“Yup.”  
“Why would you do that?”

Hinata shrugged.  
“Like I said, I’ve always felt like this picture was important, somehow. The moment I saw it, without even looking what was on it, I picked it up.”

Kageyama let out a breathy ghost of a laugh.  
“Right, okay. Only you would, Shouyou. Only you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Anyway, I’m tired. Let’s look at it tomorrow again, and finally decide whether I’m actually going crazy or not.”

Hinata grumbled a reply, kicking away his shoes and stripping his socks off his feet.

“You’re going to need to lend me some clothes,” Kageyama pointed out, swiftly discarding his shirt in a corner.  
“I forgot to bring my bag with me into this room, and it only had one change of clothing anyway.”

Hinata proceeded to call him an idiot, but neither had any energy left to pursue an argument, and Hinata let him off the hook with a single roll of his eyes.

When both had changed into clean, comfortable clothes, Hinata managing to find a few larger sized pieces of clothing for Kageyama, they easily settled into Hinata’s bed.  
They did barely fit, but neither minded the closeness.

“Thank fuck, goddamn am I tired,” Kageyama mumbled, rolling on his side to let Hinata back in his embrace, after the latter pulled the curtains over the window and blocking the moonlight from shining right into their faces.

“I bet you Daichi will be knocking on the door in five hours claiming it’s our turn to cook or something,” Hinata whispered, followed by a laugh.  
“Well, he’ll have to break down the door if he’d want me to get out, cause I’ll be damned if I don’t get to sleep for at least half a day.”

Kageyama wholeheartedly agreed.

**xxx**

Fervent knocking on the door.  
Dazed, with a splitting headache thumping against his forehead, Hinata peeled open his eyes.

He was met with Kageyama’s long lashes, and the most peaceful expression Hinata didn’t think Kageyama was capable of making.  
Fast asleep, of course.

A second set of knocking reminded Hinata of the very reason he woke up.

“Coming!” Hinata yelled, shaking Kageyama’s body.  
Through the gap in between the curtains, Hinata saw the moon still shone high, and he guessed they’ve slept for perhaps two hours at most.

Kageyama groaned, nearly hitting Hinata’s face as he swat into the air.

“Tobio, get up. Something’s going on,” he whispered into his ear, and finally, Kageyama opened one eye.

“. . . What?”

“I don’t know. But it’s urgent, or else they wouldn’t wake us up this soon.”

With a yawn, Kageyama slipped out from underneath the covers.  
His body didn’t really work with him yet, his movements sluggish as he grabbed his shoes and put them on.  
He didn’t bother changing into other clothing, nor did Hinata.

Hinata’s hair somehow even looked messier and all over the place than usual.

He switched the lock, depending on Kageyama to half-carry him as they exited the room.

“Yamaguchi?” Hinata called out to the male a few feet away.

“Oh, there you are! Come with me downstairs, Daichi called an emergency.”

Hinata exchanged a puzzled look with Kageyama, before following Yamaguchi downstairs.  
There, most of Karasuno was present, and Yaku and Kuroo had joined out of curiosity, woken by all the noise.

Daichi paced around in circles, few wrinkles present on his forehead.  
He looked up when Hinata, Kageyama and Yamaguchi entered, breathing out a sigh.

“Suga and Tsukishima haven’t come back yet.”

“W-what?”  
Hinata’s eyes widened, instantly awake.

“A few hours ago they went out to take a walk, and I’ve been awake here, waiting for them, but they’re not--” Daichi’s breath hitched.  
Their leader was clearly distressed, naturally.

Yamaguchi tried to hide his emotions, but his trembling frame gave him away.

“Something has happened. Something. . .” Daichi closed his eyes, “. . . had to have happened. Suga would never. . . He promised it’d only take an hour at most.”

Nobody said anything.

Many things could’ve happened.  
Bitten by a Walker, or one of them got injured, or--

“We’re going to look for them, right?” Yamaguchi asked, “We have to!”

“But it’s night, I don’t know if you’d want to look for two people among the Walkers with the moon as your single light source,” Yaku pondered, “Though I’m worried as well.”

All eyes were set on Daichi.

He took a deep breath.

“. . . We’re going to look for them at sunrise. We cannot. . . let our emotions lead us to take risks, even if. . . even if. . .”

Daichi threw his hands in the air, his expression one of powerlessness.  
“I’m not forcing anyone to come along.”

Nobody said a word.  
Because everyone was afraid.  
Afraid of what they’d find if they went out.

Everyone was afraid, except for--

“I’ll go, if you’ll have me,” Kageyama said.  
Not so much afraid, rather, determined.

“Me too!” Hinata quickly threw his hand in the air.  
“I’m coming as well!”

Now all eyes were on them.

It didn’t escape Hinata how Kuroo purred a very soft, “ _Freaks_.”

Everyone was on edge due to everything that happened in the past few weeks.  
The herd, Asahi’s death, Ukai’s death, Noya’s return, Kageyama’s arrival, Nekodani’s appearance--

To their surprise, Daichi’s expression melted into a relieved smile, even throwing Kageyama off course.  
“. . . Thank you. Then, me, Kageyama and Hinata. . . Be ready the moment the first ray of sunshine peeks out above the horizon. Try. . . try and get some sleep in. . .”

“We will!” Hinata nodded, looking up at Kageyama.  
“We’ll find Suga and Tsukishima!”

“What if they’re not. . .” Kageyama trailed, “. . . alive?”

“They are alive.”

Hinata was positive they were.  
They had to be.

“They are alive.”

**xxx**

“Wakey wakey, Iwa-chan!”

Grumbling, turning his back towards Oikawa and the sun, Iwaizumi swatted his hand away.  
Oikawa huffed, acting offended.  
He flopped down on top of Iwaizumi, going limp.

“Makki’s waiting for us, to help with carrying water! I brought you some food, so hurry up!”

On this particular morning, the roles were reversed.  
Usually, Oikawa would have to be kicked out of his bed to finally wake up, by Iwaizumi.

He rolled back over once he heard the word ‘food’, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.  
He squinted at Oikawa, who sheepishly grinned down at him.

“Today’s the day!”  
“. . . What?”

Snatching the can with fruit out of Oikawa’s hands, Iwaizumi decided to act oblivious to buy himself some time, so that his body could properly wake up.

“We don’t have time for this conversation, Iwa-chan! You know as well as everyone else what day it is!”  
“I think you should just tell me.”

Oikawa clicked his tongue, Iwaizumi scooped up some juice with his fingers.  
It didn’t seem like Oikawa faked his enthusiasm.  
Which was a grand well of relief to Iwaizumi.

“It’s Aobajohsai’s Birthday!”

Before Oikawa could react, Iwaizumi reached out and swiped at his face, leaving a trail of thick, orange juice on his nose.  
He watched his eyes widen, and the pout forming.

“Hajime! How could you! I just washed my face!”

“Alright, let’s go. Hanamaki is waiting for us, right?”  
Licking his lips, Iwaizumi felt bubbling laughter well up in his stomach at Oikawa’s astonished expression.  
He pushed him aside, sliding out of bed, completely ignoring the offended sputtering leaving Oikawa’s mouth.

Iwaizumi would never forget this day.  
The old calendar hanging in Oikawa’s room always counted down to this specific day, every year again and again.

Nobody knew the day they were born.  
They did know that it was a reason for celebration in the past, before the Walker outbreak.

Their previous leader, Irihata Nobuteru, had decided on the day marked July 20, they would just celebrate everyone’s birthday at once.

It meant having a large dinner at night either around a campfire outside or around the hearth inside, depending on the weather.  
A variety of foods including fruits, meat and fish would be available for all of them to eat as much as they’d like, which is why in the weeks leading up to the Birthday, a lot of extra hunting was done to prepare.

But it was always worth it.

Freely being able to eat and drink, together, without having to keep track of supplies, just for one day.

On these days Oikawa would bring out the radio with him as well, having it play on the background downstairs or outside, for short periods of time.  
Short periods, because Oikawa feared that one day, the soundbox would run out of whatever it was that made it work.  
Halfway through the day everyone always got sick and tired of the song, but nobody would say anything about it.

Oikawa sniffed, rubbing the juice off with the back of his hand.  
He jumped at Iwaizumi from behind, wrapping his arms around his neck.  
Iwaizumi nearly fell over at the added force, gripping the door frames before he did.

“Iwa-chan, my day was going so well, and you _had_ to ruin it,” he whined, not helping in the slightest as Iwaizumi regained his balance and pushed through, dragging Oikawa with him.

“Goddamnit, _Shittykawa_ \-- Let go of me! You know you deserved it, for waking me up like that!”

Oikawa finally let him, quickly interlacing their fingers and joining him at his side.  
“I didn’t mean to, at all!”

“You know I see right through your lies, right?”

Oikawa pushed against Iwaizumi, who pushed back, and so they nearly rolled down the stairway.

“There you two are! Oikawa, I thought Iwaizumi might have eaten you alive, you took so long,” Hanamaki grinned, and Iwaizumi shot him a glare.

“Uh-oh, scary,” Matsukawa cooed, spread out across the couch, his feet nearly into Yahaba’s face.  
“Off you go. Our water supply is low, and since we need to boil it all first too, we’d rather you collect it first thing in the morning.”

The clouds looming outside indicated they probably weren’t going to be able to have a campfire outside, to Iwaizumi’s disappointment.

Grabbing two large canisters out of the kitchen, he handed them to Hanamaki, before taking two himself.  
Oikawa patted the two guns in the holsters on his hip, smiling giddily.

“I don’t want to get wet, so let’s just hurry up,” he commanded, swinging open the front door.  
Iwaizumi grumbled something resembling a reply, as he and Hanamaki followed their leader outside.

He couldn’t suppress a yawn as they sauntered down the stone stairs, descending the hill.  
The fruit Oikawa brought him had given his body a boost of energy, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have rather slept another hour or two.

“I asked Yahaba to keep an eye on Kunimi,” Hanamaki told Oikawa.  
“He seemed relatively okay yesterday, but only god knows what truly goes on in his head.”

“Ah, good,” Oikawa answered, nodding, “I’m glad he and I cleared things up, but just to be sure. . .”  
Oikawa would not put it past Kunimi to go after the little Karasuno shrimp, despite their warnings.

The streets of Tokyo were calm, as the trio walked the usual path to the forest nearby.  
As their mansion was built on the outskirts of the city, natural resources were never far away.

Years of Aobajohsai was etched into the landscape around them, in the grass, the sandy path, the footprints they left behind.  
Whatever happened, Aobajohsai left a mark on the world.

Confirmation that they _lived_.

Death is a natural part of this world.  
Never linger in the past.  
The world is cruel.  
You can’t prevent everything.

_Just don’t forget about those who lost their lives._

And they wouldn’t.  
Aobajohsai would never forget.

One look at Oikawa gave away his concentration.  
He listened to everything.  
He’d have to protect Hanamaki, Iwaizumi and himself if something were to appear while carrying full canisters with water.

Not that Hanamaki or Iwaizumi were ever completely helpless, of course.

Oikawa kept watch over them as they filled the canisters with water from the stream.

“The river’s running pretty slow, so I’d be glad if those clouds bring rain,” Hanamaki muttered with a glance up to the sky.  
“. . . That curve upstream better not be fucking dammed up again, or I swear. . .”

As Hanamaki and Oikawa chatted with each other as if they weren’t usually trying one-up each other with step they took, Iwaizumi breathed in the fresh breeze, closing his eyes.  
He let the tips of his fingers sink into the river, feeling the calm, silky coldness rush past his skin.

Iwaizumi had been thinking.  
A lot.

If Karasuno did team up with Fukurodani and Nekoma like Oikawa predicted, and decided to have their revenge by attacking Aobajohsai, they might just be fucked.

Aobajohsai would be cornered by two powerful groups.  
Both of which had reasons to try and get rid of them.

But, Iwaizumi didn’t doubt for a second Oikawa would try anything in his power to protect them, and if needed, fight back.  
Only if needed.  
No unnecessary risks had to be taken.

They were prepared.  
Staying in the mansion would be their greatest advantage, and Iwaizumi noticed Oikawa was trying to limit the amount of scavenging and excursions after the discovery of the Nekoma-Fukurodani merge.

After they brought these canisters with water back, Aobajohsai had enough food and water for a few days, even if today was their Birthday--  
Most of them were probably going to hold back on the foodstock they built up.  
They’d need every last bit if Shiratorizawa or Karasuno decided to attack.

Oikawa refused to skip this year’s Birthday, though, even after Kyoutani offhandedly suggested it.

“There has never been more reason to celebrate it than this year,” Oikawa had said, “Since this may be our last one.”

Iwaizumi punched him in the stomach after that line.

Twisting the cap on the canister until he was sure it wouldn’t leak, Iwaizumi went through the same process with the next one.

He glanced over to Oikawa.  
He’d fallen quiet, his chat with Hanamaki over, and he didn’t seem to realise Iwaizumi was watching him.

Iwaizumi visibly saw the cheerful mask crumble at that very moment.  
The upturned corners of Oikawa’s grin faltering, the fake twinkle in his eyes disappearing.

Iwaizumi knew he’d been acting too casual to be real, and this moment confirmed it.

Oikawa looked exhausted.

Just as Iwaizumi opened his mouth, to say something to him, anything, a faint gunshot reached their ears.  
It barely beat the noise of the river in front of them, but it was there.

All three turned their heads at the exact same time in the direction of the alarming sound.

Hanamaki tilted his head slightly, his lips parting in soundless questioning.

Slowly, Iwaizumi rose up from the ground, a pebble slipping out from under his foot and splashing into the water as he did.  
The canisters were forgotten about.

If Oikawa’s expression was cracked before, now it shattered.  
His Adam’s apple went up and down once.

From the corner of his eye, he met Iwaizumi’s gaze.

Astonished.

A shiver ran down Iwaizumi’s spine, their eyes connecting, as exactly the same thoughts went through their heads.

“Don’t tell me. . .” Oikawa started.

A second gunshot.

Oikawa took off, back into the direction of Tokyo.

Hanamaki scrambled after him, kicking over one of the canisters in the process, closely followed by Iwaizumi.

Oikawa’s heartbeat quickened as he turned to look back again, tossing one of his guns to Iwaizumi without a second thought.  
He caught it, of course.

Oikawa nearly tripped over his own feet as he ran, ran as fast as he could.

His tongue flicked out to lick his lips, once.

Strained panting, short breaths.

Thin branches scratched his face and arms.

“Careful, Tooru!” Iwaizumi called out, right behind him, “We don’t know what’s going on!”

Gritting their teeth, the three of them burst through the edge of the forest into the grass field.  
Back down the sandy path.  
Hanamaki at this point could barely keep up, but he managed.

Tokyo in sight.

A third gunshot, far clearer than the previous two now.  
It echoed between the streets, amplified.

“Is it Karasuno?!” Hanamaki yelled.  
His composure was long lost.

“No. . . no way. . .” Iwaizumi huffed, shaking his head.  
“It’s gotta be. . .”

 _ **“Ushijima!”**_  
Oikawa called out, throat vibrating, his voice low, rough and animalistic.  
None of the usual smoothness.

Three people were standing halfway up the hill to their mansion, their home.

Oikawa kicked down the fence, pieces of wood breaking off and launching away.

Consumed by rage.  
If Iwaizumi didn’t do anything, Oikawa would not stop, he couldn’t think clearly right now.

“Wait!”

Just as Oikawa stepped onto the stone stairway, Iwaizumi reached out and tightly grabbed the man’s wrist, pulling him back.  
“I said, _wait!_ ”

The three of them looked up.

No room for doubt.

A thin stream of blood ran down the stairway through the cracks and curves in the stone, pooling at the trio’s feet.

Holding Kunimi in an iron grip, gun against the side of his head, stood Goshiki, and a few steps above, Ushijima.

Kunimi’s feet barely reached the ground, his lips were bloody and he bled from a wound to his head.  
He didn’t struggle as much, as he needed all the energy to keep breathing right now.

His eyes glazed over when he saw Oikawa, all the way down.

And Oikawa knew.

That all Aobajohsai’s efforts to protect themselves had been futile.

The mansion was quiet.  
Any second now, Oikawa hoped Matsukawa or Yahaba would burst out through the door, guns blazing.

But it never came.

If they were alive, they would’ve come to their aid by now.

Kyoutani’s blood stained the grass, his body limp against the side of the hill, underneath the apple tree.  
He had been standing guard, and was the first to die.  
Completely taken by surprise.

Goshiki’s underarm had a bloody bite mark on it, though.  
Oikawa didn’t know how he managed to do it, but Kyoutani had stayed true to Oikawa’s nickname for him, to the very end.

“Are they all. . .?” Hanamaki’s soft voice trailed, his knees nearly giving away.

Iwaizumi balled up his fist, while his gun aimed for Goshiki.  
Oikawa’s was set on Ushijima.  
Ushijima’s set on Hanamaki and Oikawa.

Despite Oikawa, Iwaizumi and Hanamaki outnumbering Goshiki and Ushijima, it was Shiratorizawa who held the power here.

They had a hostage.

It seemed to be only Goshiki and Ushijima.  
No Tendou, Semi or Shirabu, which Iwaizumi found odd.  
He expected them to pop out any second now--

“Why?” Iwaizumi asked nobody in particular, hopeless.

The world, perhaps.

Ushijima had waited for this very moment.  
When Iwaizumi and Oikawa both weren’t around to protect and defend.  
When Aobajohsai was missing their two most vital members.

The three of Aobajohsai had most likely been watched by Goshiki and Ushijima from the very start, until they were far, far away.

Oikawa had been so careful.

Just for today, they’d loosened their grip the tiniest bit.  
A crack in their defense, with Iwaizumi and Oikawa not around.

A tiny mistake.

Aobajohsai wasn’t able to beat Shiratorizawa after all.

They’d been trapped in a false sense of security.

Shiratorizawa hadn’t reared its ugly head in weeks now.

Aobajohsai had decided to play it safe, and wait.

And Ushijima has taken advantage of that.

In the end. . .

Did Oikawa Tooru make a mistake by waiting?

Hanamaki shook his head in disbelief, his lips parted as silent tears rolled down.  
“. . . You _fuckers!_ H-how--! Why?!”

Oh, how Oikawa hated that calm, collected gaze only Ushijima could master in a situation like this.

Iwaizumi’s eyes stung.  
He saw his vision blur, so he quickly blinked.  
His hand holding the gun, trembling.

“You unbelievable _cowards!_ ” Hanamaki added, not knowing where to look, his whole body shaking.  
He wiped his tears with the back of his hand, his body slumping, defeated.

The front door of the mansion swung open.

Matsukawa, holding his bloody left arm, a gash through his stomach and dark red smudges across his face.  
He didn’t have any weapons on him.

“Oika--” he sputtered, limping out through the door.  
“Just go! Y-Yahaba’s dead already, and I--”

Ushijima turned his body slightly and shot a bullet clean through Matsukawa’s head.  
His body fell backwards into the mansion on impact.

“N-no, _Mattsun_. . . ! Goddamnit, fuck you, Ushijima!”  
Oikawa’s voice broke halfway through.

Hanamaki had fallen eerily quiet, only the shocking of his shoulders giving him away.

Iwaizumi hissed through his teeth, rubbing the tears away before they could fall.

What were they going to do?

There was no hope for them anymore.

They were going to die here.

_All of them._

Kunimi coughed, kicking his feet up against Goshiki’s calves.  
He managed a few words in.  
“Listen to Matsukawa! J-just go, leave me and fucking go!”

This situation had spiraled out of their control.

Iwaizumi glanced over at Oikawa, helpless.  
The look on their proud leader’s face told him everything.

They weren’t going to run away.

Hanamaki was reduced to a crying, collapsed human on the ground.

Oikawa’s cold fingers brushed against Iwaizumi’s.

“Tell us, Ushiwaka. . .” Oikawa finally spoke up, “Why?”  
His voice was surprisingly clear, though his lips trembled.

Ushijima took a step down the stairs, and another one.  
“. . .To prove to you that you made a mistake, by choosing worthless pride over Shiratorizawa.”

His deep, cold voice sent shivers down Iwaizumi’s spine.

What kind of shivers?

Ah.

He hadn’t felt it in a while.

Fear.

“I’ll let you watch your world crash and burn, Oikawa,” Ushijima continued, “That little bubble of a world you created for yourself and these people.”

He took another step down.

Oikawa looked past Ushijima at Kunimi.  
“I’m sorry, Kunimi. That I. . . That I couldn’t be a better leader.”

Kunimi just shook his head.

Another step.

Iwaizumi started to panic, tempted to take a step backwards, but Oikawa didn’t budge.  
So Iwaizumi wouldn’t either.

“I guess we were wrong then, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sighed softly.  
Unfiltered melancholy.  
But his fire hadn’t died down, yet.

It all happened in a flash.

The ringing noise of multiple gun shots at once echoed through Iwaizumi’s head.  
His heartbeat spiked as he aimed his own gun.

This was Aobajohsai’s last stand.

A last _showdown_ , if you will.

Kunimi’s body crashed to the ground, rolling down a few stairs before coming to a halt.  
One half of his head was blown open, blood and pieces of flesh coloring the grass and stone.

Hanamaki was shot, next.

He didn’t even resist, or try to get away.  
He took the bullet through his head, and died on the spot.

Iwaizumi’s shot pierced Goshiki’s stomach.

Oikawa clearly aimed for Ushijima’s heart, but missed, as the man had moved down further, shooting clean through his left shoulder instead.

It wouldn’t be enough.

Oikawa’s pained cry absolutely shattered every last bit of resolve Iwaizumi had left.  
Stumbling over to his leader, his best friend, _his most beloved_ \--

He’d collapsed into the mud, holding his right leg as he cried, tears streaming down the beautiful face Iwaizumi adored.

Oikawa Tooru really was an ugly crier, though.

Iwaizumi didn’t pay mind to Ushijima or Goshiki anymore.

It was over.

Their home had become their grave.

He rushed to Oikawa’s side with a strained cry of distress, kneeling beside him and holding him in his arms.

Iwaizumi’s own tears mixed with Oikawa’s.

Blood colored the right knee area of his pants, and Oikawa bit down on his lip in an attempt to suppress the pain.

“H-Hajime, I’m sorry. I should’ve done better, I’m not-- Everything went wrong, why, why did it go wrong, we didn’t do anything--” he babbled, blood dribbling down from the corners of his mouth.

It didn’t matter anymore.

“We didn’t. . . you didn’t do anything wrong, Tooru,” Iwaizumi cradled him, his voice nothing more but a whisper.  
_“We couldn’t have known.”_

In the end, nobody knows anything.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa were the only ones left from Aobajohsai.  
Reduced to two in a matter of thirty minutes.

“ _Fuck_ , it hurts so much, Hajime--”  
Oikawa’s breath hitched, broke.  
He held onto Iwaizumi tightly, not wanting to let go of him, ever.

Their last moments together.

Until Oikawa got ripped out of his arms and tossed down the hill with little to no effort.

_“Hajime!”_

Ushijima loomed over Iwaizumi.

He heard Oikawa cry out again as he landed on his shattered knee, hearing his body roll down the slope.  
Their weapons were kicked away.

And Iwaizumi could do nothing.

He could do nothing as he was frozen in place, everything that happened dawning upon him at once.

They were all dead.  
His friends were dead.  
His family was dead.

Aobajohsai lost.

They were killed by these two men.

Almost unbelievable.

But that was Shiratorizawa.

And he should’ve seen it coming.

Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t feel anything when the knife connected with his skin, and wrung its way into his chest.  
He didn’t feel anything when it twisted, and slashed downwards, tearing through his heart and then his stomach, and pulled out again.

Iwaizumi Hajime only remembered.

Oikawa Tooru’s laughter.  
His smile.  
His stupid ‘ _Iwa-chan_ ’s’.  
His touches.  
His kisses.

He heard Oikawa’s choked scream, yelling his name, again and again.

He closed his eyes.

Maybe in another life, he and Oikawa and Hanamaki and Matsukawa and everyone else, could lead a happy life.  
With no Walkers.  
With no. . .

One of the last thoughts crossing his mind was about how glad he was he didn’t have to watch Oikawa die.

But then immediately berated himself for thinking it.  
It was selfish.  
Because that meant Oikawa had to watch _him_ die, instead.

He’d definitely meet them all again.  
He’d meet Oikawa again.

One day.

Iwaizumi Hajime passed away before his body reached the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	19. Dark Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, the true danger inches closer and closer.
> 
> Also, a reunion in death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, last chapter was a grand success.  
> I'm not sorry at all.
> 
> You'll see everything coming together from now on.
> 
> Also!!  
> Right after this chapter, please go read the second installment just freshly published right [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24291622/chapters/58552942) !
> 
> To be clear, this is not a continuation of the Streets of Tokyo!  
> It's an entirely new story, but it's included in the Reincarnation AU of 'Frozen in Time'.
> 
> The last few chapters of this story may be delayed as I look for a suitable update schedule for writing two fics at the time, which is something I'll be doing more in the future.

The gate closed behind them.

“Please find them, and bring them back alive,” Yamaguchi said, biting down on his lip.  
He’d later asked Daichi if he couldn’t join them as well, but their leader refused.  
They had to be able to mix in with the Walkers and three people were the absolute maximum amount that could go by without attracting a whole hoard.

Besides, Daichi figured Yamaguchi might be unable to contain his emotions would they find something. . . shocking.

“We will!” Hinata replied confidently, with a nod.

Kageyama felt optimistic to some degree.  
He didn’t know exactly how skilled the two men they were looking for were, but he didn’t doubt they had the necessary skills to survive.

Thinking about it again, Daichi, Kageyama and Hinata formed a good team.  
Hinata was fast and agile, Kageyama a smart fighter and generally a jack-of-all-trades, and with Daichi’s leadership skills and strength combined together, they were a powerhouse on their own.

Daichi was determined to find Suga and Tsukishima.  
He was worried, but, he trusted Suga.  
He wouldn’t do anything irrational, and he’d protect Tsukishima if needed.

“Do we have any idea on where they went?” Kageyama asked, gazing around the plaza.  
“Scouring this amount of territory for two people is nearly impossible without a general direction.”

“They left towards Aobajohsai’s border,” Daichi said, marching in said direction across the plaza.  
“Surely they wouldn’t actually go near the border, but they’d be somewhere around there.”

Armed with his spear, Kageyama followed the leader closely, focused.  
He didn’t just want to prove Karasuno could trust him when he volunteered to take part in the search party; he was genuinely worried for Suga.  
Tsukishima hadn’t made the best impression on him, but still, Kageyama would do everything to prevent anyone from Karasuno from dying.

“You don’t think Aobajohsai did anything?” Hinata asked Daichi, a skip in his step to keep up with the two taller men.  
“Because I. . . you know. . . did _that_.”

“I doubt it,” Daichi said, “I’m pretty sure they assumed that, when you killed one of theirs, it was retribution for the herd they sent to us. Sure, they might have been angered, but that’s natural.”

“You’re saying they were more likely to accept Kindaichi’s death, because they knew the herd caused victims as well?” Kageyama questioned.

Hinata lost what the conversation was about around ‘retribution’.

Daichi and Kageyama easily flowed into a conversation, making Hinata wonder what the two talked about when he went to visit Noya, if they felt this comfortable with each other.

Not much happened on their journey.  
They all kept their eyes out for the two missing members of Karasuno, Hinata arrowed a Walker, and Kageyama could show off his spear dance with a trio of Walkers.

Nearing the border with Aobajohsai, Daichi remembered when he last came here.  
The main road, filled with Walkers.  
Now it was nearly completely empty.

No trace of Suga or Tsukishima.

Hinata could almost see the disappointment dripping off Daichi’s expression.

“Let’s. . . let’s reasonably think about what could’ve happened,” Daichi mumbled, sighing softly.  
“For one, they’ve been gone for multiple hours.”

“And there’s no herd or large group of Walkers in the area that could’ve caught them off guard,” Hinata added.

“Aobajohsai probably has nothing to do with it, but it’s a minor possibility,” Kageyama said.

By now the three were heading alongside the border to Nekoma’s.

“They both know the territory very well, there’s no way they got lost or something,” Daichi trailed, looking up into the blue sky above.

What could’ve happened?

“What. . . are _they_ doing?”  
Hinata’s voice shook the other two up out of their gloomy state, following the direction Hinata pointed at.

Across the street, a small group of Walkers were huddled around, their backs hunched towards the three humans, pressed to the ground.

Frowning, Daichi took a few steps closer.  
“I’m going to try and get their attention, careful,” he warned his companions, before whistling.  
The sharp sound carried across, and most if not all of the Walkers stood up and turned around.  
When they saw the three, they decided it was worth leaving whatever they were crowding around for them, and started to saunter over.

“Hinata, you’re the quickest. Go around them, and check what they were so interested in,” Daichi said, taking his axe off his back.  
“Kageyama, you stay here with me, and we distract those fuckers away from Hinata.”

With a curt nod, Kageyama slightly bend through his knees, the sharp edge of his spear pointing at the group of Walkers inching closer.

Hinata sped off to the right, circling the Walkers.  
His actual speed surprised Kageyama, who hadn’t had the opportunity yet to see Hinata truly run without limitations.

A flurry of orange went past the Walkers before they could even register what was going on.

Once safely away, Hinata slowed down a bit, squinting his eyes at the area the undead previously gathered around.

Something shone.  
Something _reflected_ in the sunlight.

It could only be one thing.

A shiver ran down Hinata’s spine as he looked at what undoubtedly were Tsukishima’s glasses, broken in millions of pieces by the bony feet of Walkers, the frame crooked.

A few feet away, a dried up splatter of blood.  
It had already been absorbed into the pavement, but looking at the vague remainders, it didn’t seem like a deadly wound caused it.

It would even take a Walker group like that a few hours to devour a body, and there’d still be bones left to show, so Hinata ruled out the possibility of Suga and Tsukishima being attacked by Walkers.  
The Walkers had simply been attracted to the blood.

Had one or both of them been knocked out?

If Walkers had no play in this, then. . .

Hinata looked back, just in time to see Kageyama beheading a Walker.

The two saw Hinata had found _something_ , and quickly left the Walkers behind to join the ginger.

“It’s. . . Tsukishima’s glasses, smashed. And the Walkers gathered because of some blood, I. . .”

He licked his lips nervously.  
“. . . There are no bones or bodily remains. They weren’t attacked by Walkers, and since Tsukishima is as blind as a bat, he wouldn’t just leave his glasses behind. . .”

Daichi swallowed, nodding, knowing what Hinata was implying.

“. . . They were taken by another group.”

They weren’t anywhere near Aobajohsai’s border anymore, and Daichi had a hard time believing Oikawa would wait to ambush members from Karasuno.  
He knew the man well enough to know he didn’t have time for such a thing, more concerned with the wellbeing of his own group.

And of course, with Nekoma and Fukurodani back at Karasuno’s own hideout, that only left one option.

Kageyama came to the same conclusion.

He met Daichi’s eyes, and Hinata’s.

“. . . Suga and Tsukishima were taken by Shiratorizawa.”

**xxx**

“See, you two have the whole cell block for yourselfs!”

Blood dripped from the cut in his lip.

“The last Walkers are after my friends. Did you know, they had the nerve to leave Shiratorizawa? Didn’t even say goodbye to me,” Tendou continued, pushing the two in their backs, right into the open cell.

Suga tried to block out every word the man spouted from his mind.

He felt ashamed.  
Guilty.  
Bitter.

He glanced behind at Tsukishima, who held the ripped piece of cloth to the wound on his head.  
Suga held his wrist to guide him, since he lost his glasses long ago.

Tendou casually leaned against the cell door, meeting Suga’s hateful glare right on.

“Hey now, don’t look at me like that. I’m not going to kill you. For now,” he said, cocking his head to one side.  
“. . . You two were just really unlucky. Or lucky, depending on what kind of person you are.”

He stepped backwards, shutting the cell door with a click.  
“If I had to guess, lucky for you, unlucky for the blonde.”

It took Suga a bit to realise what the redhead was talking about now.  
He grit his teeth.  
He’s never felt this judged before.  
Worse was, that the guy was probably right, too.

Tendou told them he’d been waiting for whoever he came across, and that it didn’t necessarily had to be Suga and Tsukishima.  
Suga would rather be the one in the cell right now than any of the others from Karasuno.  
That’s why Tendou called him lucky.

Suga would’ve felt worse if it was anyone else instead of him, here, right now.

“You still haven’t told us why you took us,” Suga said, taking a step closer to the door.  
He felt safer with a door between them.  
He knew Tendou was unpredictable.

“Hmm? Oh, I just. . . I’m just really bored,” Tendou shrugged, “So I’m going to experiment on you guys a little bit. While this all lasts.”

“Experiment? While it all lasts?”

“Ushiwaka and Goshiki are on their way to wipe out Aobajohsai. After that, it’s just a matter of time. I think. . . Shiratorizawa won’t exist anymore by the end of this week.”

With that, Tendou locked the door and left.  
Suga could hear him humming, until it finally faded and disappeared.

“Tsukishima, how are you feeling?”  
He turned back to the male, worried.

Tendou got them good.  
He struck Tsukishima before either even knew what the hell was going on.

“. . . Feel like my head’s going to fall off,” Tsukishima grumbled, sliding down the wall to the ground.  
“I can’t see shit, but I can just imagine that red fuck dancing away.”

Suga sat down besides him, sighing.  
“. . . I’m sorry, I should have--”

“No. We don’t need any guilt trips right now,” Tsukishima interrupted, groaning softly, “He said he’s going to experiment on us. He’s crazy.”

“God knows what he means with ‘experimenting’,” Suga said.  
He wrapped his arms around his knee, resting his head on top.  
“. . . Aobajohsai, huh. . . I. . . As much I don’t like Oikawa, I like Shiratorizawa even less.”

“I think, after they kill them all, they’re just going to move on to Karasuno, Nekoma and Fukurodani,” Tsukishima mumbled, “But they might anticipate even they won’t survive that, and that’s why he doesn’t believe they’ll make the end of the week.”

Suga slowly nodded.  
“. . . Shiratorizawa has just given up, haven’t they? Given up on this world. . . yet, they still won’t go down quietly. They’ll take as many down with them as they can.”

“That Ushijima is really something,” Tsukishima sounded mildly impressed, but more so disgusted, “If he’s willing to go that far to make people’s lives even more of a hell than it already is.”

“And we won’t be able to fight them.”

Suga hated it.  
Even with the promise of ‘experimentation’, he and Tsukishima would be locked up here, unable to fight alongside their friends and family.  
He knew even Tsukishima, who hated everything he deemed unnecessary, would rather be with Karasuno than here.

“We’re going to have to wait,” Tsukishima concluded, “We can’t do anything in here. We just have to _wait_.”  
He spat out the last word like it personally hurt him.

Suga thought about Daichi.  
About Hinata, Kageyama, and Yamaguchi.  
About. . . everyone, back at the orphanage.

He never expected Tendou to jump out on them like that.  
They’d just been walking around, sometimes talking, but often, basking in a comfortable silence.  
Nekodani added a lot of pressure onto everyone in Karasuno, even if unintentionally, and being away from them could clear up their heads.

It happened so quickly.

And now they were here.

In a cell somewhere in Shiratorizawa’s hideout, the Tokyo Detention Centre.  
He guessed Kuroo had been right, then.  
About Shiratorizawa’s advances.

Suga felt like their future was hopeless.

**xxx**

With their heads hung, slumped, the trio walked past Tanaka, who kind of guessed how it went based on their expressions.  
He silently followed them back inside the orphanage.

Daichi collapsed in his chair, Kageyama fell onto the couch and Hinata flopped on top of him, tired and emotionally drained.

Tanaka gathered the others, and Nekoma and Fukurodani joined them in as well.

After a really long silence, Daichi sighed, and finally looked up.

“We didn’t find them. We did find Tsukishima’s glasses and some blood, and we have kind of deducted that. . .”  
He paused, and swallowed.  
“Suga and Tsukishima have most likely been taken by Shiratorizawa.”

A few people gasped, and Kuroo and Bokuto exchanged a look.

“. . . It’s your call, then,” Kuroo finally said, “To decide what we’re going to do. We all want Shiratorizawa to pay.”

Daichi nodded, leaning backwards, closing his eyes for a bit.  
Who knows what happened to Suga, and Tsukishima.  
Maybe they weren’t even alive anymore.

“We can’t let this slide,” he stated, much to everyone’s relief.

There had been a chance Daichi would still, despite his own lover being in danger, choose to back down to prevent more deaths.

“Bokuto, Kuroo. . . Let’s go around the table and discuss Shiratorizawa, once again. We’ll come up with a plan.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Kuroo said, grinning -- bloodthirsty.  
“You listened to that, Bokuto?”

Bokuto merely nodded.  
He had a hard time believing Akaashi was still alive.  
He couldn’t force himself to be cheerful, or loud.

The three leaders immediately made work of Daichi’s promise.  
They left the hearth room, to discuss their plans and ideas somewhere private.

Hinata blew down Kageyama’s nape, whose only form of reply was a shiver.

“Tobio?” he whispered, “. . . Let’s go to my room.”

Kageyama groaned, but slowly leveraged himself off the couch, and Hinata rolled off of him.  
Hinata held his hand as he lead him through the orphanage.  
In his bedroom, they could have privacy.

Once the door was locked behind them, Hinata hesitantly hugged Kageyama from behind, resting his head against his back.  
He felt Kageyama enclose his hands in his own, on his chest.

“. . . What do you think they’re going to decide?” Hinata asked.

Kageyama hummed softly, thinking.  
“. . . There’s not many options. I’m guessing they’re going to attack the Tokyo Detention Centre itself, though I don’t know how. . .”

“What if it fails?”

Kageyama swirled around immediately, glaring down at Hinata, now in front of him.  
But Hinata didn’t look back up at him.

“Dumbass, we don’t even know what’s going to happen yet! And you’re already thinking of failure?!”

“I’m not! I’m just saying, that-- that--”

“That we might fail?!”

“I don’t want to lose anyone else, Tobio!” he cried, hitting Kageyama’s chest with his fist.  
“I’m only afraid! I just found you again, and--!”

“Oh my god,” Kageyama breathed, bending down and picking Hinata up with ease.  
He felt him pout against his neck.

“You’re supposed to be all weirdly positive in situations like these, not me,” Kageyama stated.  
“We’ll be fine. You don’t want to leave Suga and Tsukishima over to Shiratorizawa’s fate, do you?”

“. . . Of course not.”  
“We’re going to win.”  
“. . . Right.”  
“Right.”  
“Okay.”

Kageyama let Hinata go down to the ground again.  
He sat down on Hinata’s bed, watching the ginger shuffle around, antsy.

“Goddamn you, Shouyou,” he cursed, spreading his arms wide.  
“Come here then.”

Hinata rubbed his eyes, and smiled.  
He stopped in front of Kageyama, and let the latter reel him in.

They exchanged a few kisses, before laying down on the bed next to each other.  
Both were snoozing, dozing off.  
They’d both rather forget about what they discovered today, for a little bit.

Kageyama’s nose itched.  
He opened his eyes reluctantly, and sniffed the air.

A sour smell, it stung

Hinata grumbled softly.  
“. . . What’s that smell?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Kageyama replied, slowly sliding off the bed.  
“You just stay there, I know you’re tired.”

He missed the fond expression in Hinata, as he just turned around.  
Sauntering over to the single window facing the orphanage gate and the plaza, he pushed it open with some difficulty.

The breeze carried an even heavier scent.  
Now he knew what it was.

Smoke.

He peeked out with his head, frowning.  
No fire anywhere to be found.

He turned to the other side, and realisation dawned on him.

“. . . There’s a fire in Aobajohsai’s territory.”

**xxx**

“I’ll walk out in front of both of you,” Akaashi said.  
Speaking still did hurt his throat a bit, but he managed.  
“I really don’t want any of you to get shot, because they might misunderstand.”

“They _will_ misunderstand,” Shirabu grumbled, feeling Semi squeeze his hand softly.  
“They’re going to think we’re here to threaten them, or something.”

“I will protect you,” Akaashi resolutely stated.  
“I won’t let them hurt you.”

“. . . We never told you why we left Shiratorizawa, did we?” Semi asked, to change the subject.  
He was limping along, so they didn’t move as fast as usual.  
He had Shirabu lift some of the weight off of his sprained ankle, though, so he managed.  
It didn’t hurt as much as before anymore.

Semi was a bit scared.  
That he and Shirabu might get shot.  
They could get sniped from a window, and Akaashi wouldn’t even be able to protect them.

“You haven’t,” Akaashi nodded, “So, why did you?”

“You’ll want to know about this if Fukurodani is really with Karasuno. Tendou and Ushijima were making plans,” Semi said, “To wipe out every group. Every single one.”

“It’s a suicide mission,” Shirabu added, “Even if we managed to kill off one or two groups, we’d at least get injured at some point.”

“So we decided there’s more to life than dying because of a psychopath’s dream to sow death,” Semi concluded.

“You’re going to leave Tokyo?” Akaashi questioned.  
He didn’t expect them to stay, anyways.  
He’s become their friend, and it would be sad to see them go, but Akaashi knew where his heart was at.

Shirabu nodded.  
“If we live through this, that is. We want to see what’s out there, I guess.”

So Semi and Shirabu really did risk their freedom for Akaashi.  
They could’ve left him behind and they’d be somewhere out there already, without having to care about Shiratorizawa anymore.

Akaashi did not want any of the two to die.  
Again, he’d become their friends.  
That’s just how it came to be, even if they were enemies once.  
They saved his life.  
And he wasn’t going to let anyone rob them of theirs.

They still weren’t even sure Nekoma and Fukurodani were really with Karasuno.  
It was a gamble.  
A big one.  
If they were wrong, they could all die.  
Semi and Shirabu would die, for sure.

They were standing on the edge of Nekoma’s border with Karasuno.

“Well, he goes nothing,” Semi muttered.

They continued onwards.  
From this point on, they were in danger.  
They didn’t know where Karasuno’s hideout was located, so really. . .  
Wandering around and hoping to come across a patrol was their only option.

And they did get lucky.  
After about an hour, they just turned into another street, and there they saw them.

Three figures in the distance.  
Akaashi squinted his eyes, but he could only make out orange hair.  
But, that was enough.

“. . . At least one of them is from Karasuno,” he said, hiding with Semi and Shirabu behind a block of debris.  
“That little one with orange hair.”

“ _Jackpot_ ,” Shirabu whispered, but he didn’t want to sound too hopeful.  
They couldn’t forget their place.

“So we should follow them. From a far enough distance, of course,” Semi muttered, peeking over the edge.  
“Oh, they’re moving away again.”

“Be mindful, they shouldn’t really. . . they can’t realise we’re trailing them, or we might be a done deal,” Akaashi mumbled, slowly coming out from behind the debris.

As silently as they could, being mindful of their distance yet also making sure to not lose the trio between the alleyways, Akaashi, Semi and Shirabu anxiously followed them through the territory.

**xxx**

He remembered his last words, just before he lost consciousness.

Towering over him, his expression void of any emotion.

_“I’m not going to kill you. . . Watch. . .”_

The mansion soon lit ablaze.  
Yellow, orange flames licking up the wood, up the balcony.

He could see the glow reflected on the grass around him, faintly feeling the heat.

Blurry vision, he saw the two shapes -- one, limping -- moving away, and Oikawa was left alone.  
He lost consciousness right after.

Then when he opened his eyes again, everything around him was dark and grey.  
The sky was black.  
Ash fluttered down like snow.

That’s when he slowly, slowly realised what Ushijima’s parting words had really meant.

A tear rolled past his eyelashes, followed by another.

Oikawa didn’t feel anything anymore.  
The blood on his knee had spread, dried up, continuing to flow slowly.

He couldn’t move.  
His body felt heavy, as if nailed to the ground.

Gnawing away at his arm.

Tearing flesh off muscles and bone.

Emerald green eyes were empty, glazed over, dead.

Oikawa couldn’t move.

It still looked like him.  
The same clothes, the same hair.

But his touch were cold, and his soul was gone.

It was Oikawa’s blood tainting his lips, and Oikawa’s flesh between his teeth.

“. . . Iwa. . . Hajime. . .”  
He didn’t recognize his own voice anymore.

“I-it hurts. . . don’t. . .”

No reply.  
Of course not.

Oikawa listened to the squelching noises, just staring up into the night sky.

He didn’t know how he was still alive.

The Walker mindlessly continued to eat away, teeth grazing along veins and skin.

Finally, after countless minutes, he reached up with his right arm, and let his hand fall on top of the Walker’s head, softly petting its hair.

Cold.

Everything was cold.

The mansion had been reduced to a blackened heap of coal, the fire had destroyed everything.

Burnt to the ground, buried, together with Oikawa’s heart.

For a moment, he considered closing his eyes again, and let himself die.

Die, while being eaten by the soulless husk of Iwaizumi Hajime.

Then they would walk the world together, after Oikawa turned into one of them, too.

But did he really want that?  
Did he want their bodies to stay behind on this world, forever doomed to wander?

No.  
Aobajohsai had a rule.  
And as the last standing member, Oikawa would not let everything go down the drain like this.

“Iwa-chan. . .” he sighed, “Hand me that gun over there, will you?”

The Walker grunted, blood mixed with saliva dripping down its jaw.

Oikawa had to keep talking.  
Had to ignore those empty eyes, the blood, the wound across Iwaizumi’s body that had killed him.

“You see,” he continued, “I know you wouldn’t want this.”

He was going crazy.  
Oikawa knew it, but there was nobody left to care.  
Nobody left to tell him.

The Walker bit down in his shoulder, and Oikawa gasped, in pain.  
That one hurt.

If he didn’t hurry up, his body would shut down on him.

His left arm was half eaten, nearly exposing bone.  
His right hand left Iwaizumi’s hair, and instead, he tried to leverage himself up from the ground.

The weight of the Walker pressed down on him, still, but Oikawa knew he had to do this.

If he really loved Iwaizumi, he had to.

And he did.

He’d always love him.

“Hajime, you’re hurting me,” he whispered, pulling himself loose.  
Left arm, limp.

God, he had to crawl, with one arm.  
Through the ashes, further down the hill, where he saw his pistol shimmering.  
Shimmering like a beacon.

He felt the Walker claw at his legs, but he continued on.

Slowly, centimeters at a time.

Memories, thoughts, flooded through his mind.

_He should’ve been nicer to Kageyama._

_He should’ve told Iwaizumi how much he loved him, much, much earlier._

_He should’ve been able to protect Kindaichi._

His numb fingers enclosed around the barrel, pulling the weapon towards him.

He turned around to lay on his back again, resting, letting his breathing catch up for a moment.  
The Walker had reached him again, biting into his leg, near his shattered knee.

He cocked the gun with great difficulty, with trembling fingers, raising up his head to look at the hunched over undead at his feet.

His hands were moving so violently, he almost couldn’t aim straight.  
Tears started to stream down his face again, trying to get a good shot at Iwaizumi’s head.

Oikawa only had to pull the trigger.  
And Iwaizumi would be freed from an everlasting fate on this hellhole of a world.

“. . . ‘m sorry, Hajime,” he muttered, “I’ll see you soon.”

The bullet penetrated through the Walkers head, and it collapsed on top of Oikawa.

He didn’t want to see it.  
He didn’t want to look at it anymore.

This time, Shiratorizawa has won.

This time.

Next time, whenever next time may be. . .

Oikawa Tooru would find a way to make Ushijima Wakatoshi suffer tenfold the pain he felt.

He wasn’t afraid anymore.

In fact, he welcomed his own death.

Pushing the muzzle against the side of his own head, he glared up at the night sky once.

Then he pulled the trigger, and killed himself.

Dark red mixed with ashen grey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	20. Connected Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, hope brings them all together.
> 
> Also, you'll finally discover why there are _certain _tags.__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo --  
> We're nearly there.  
> I've discovered that I really like writing two fics at once, it does wonders for my inspiration and motivation.
> 
> Yes, I'm implying that I'm already thinking up the next fic that will be published alongside 'Spinning Endlessly'.
> 
> As you've noticed with this update, I'm still publishing twice a week, but I switch between the two stories. This guarantees better editing, and me not burning out!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this new chapter!

Unity.  
Kageyama has always, always craved it.  
He thought he found it in Aobajohsai.  
Then in himself alone.  
And now, in Karasuno.

“Change of plans,” Daichi announced, after a grueling three hours of discussion with Kuroo and Bokuto.  
They were finally going to hear what they were going to do against Shiratorizawa.  
“Karasuno is officially joining forces with Nekoma and Fukurodani against Shiratorizawa.”

A ripple of agreement rushed through the crowd, all gathered once again in the hearth room.

Many used these past three hours to catch up with some lost sleep -- like Kageyama and Hinata -- and were now up and ready.  
Kiyoko distributed some water to the three leaders.

“I underestimated the threat of Shiratorizawa’s attacks,” Daichi admitted, “And now we have to pay for that miscalculation.”

But nobody was angry with him.  
They understood, that with everything Karasuno has gone through in the past few weeks, they couldn’t just take the risk of fighting Shiratorizawa.

“We have reason to believe Aobajohsai might have already been attacked, and that whoever of Shiratorizawa lived through that, is now heading for us. We don’t know when, of course,” Daichi continued, wearing the stern expression that everyone knew as his ‘I Will Not Take This Shit Anymore’-face.  
“But they _will_ attack us, too.”

Kageyama had informed Daichi immediately of the fire in Aobajohsai’s territory.

“For as far as we know, we have to assume all five members of Shiratorizawa are in top condition. To refresh certain people’s memories. . .” Kuroo trailed.

All three leaders cast a glance to one of their own, clearly having someone in mind.

Lev, Konoha and Tanaka, respectively.

Only Konoha caught onto the silent accusation, and threw his hands in the air in protest -- but refrained from causing a scene.

“. . . There’s Ushijima, Goshiki, Semi, Shirabu and Tendou left,” Kuroo continued, “Based on what we know about them, I’d like to blindly accuse Tendou as at least one of the perpetrators who kidnapped Sugawara and Tsukishima.”

“They might be wounded, rendered useless or perhaps, one or more are already dead,” Bokuto said, “But we can’t assume that. We have to be prepared for all five of them.”

“We’ve decided to split everyone here in two groups with different purposes.”

“Group A, lead by Daichi, will be patrolling Karasuno’s territory, most likely loitering close to the orphanage. This is to await them, let them come to us, if they decide to attack the orphanage on its own, like we suspect they did to Aobajohsai.”

“Group B, lead by Kuroo, will lead a attack on the Tokyo Detention Centre, Shiratorizawa’s hideout. This is solely to secure Akaashi, Sugawara and Tsukishima, and by causing a ruckus, hopefully stopping anything bad from happening to them.”

“So, who’s going to be on whose team?” Yaku asked with a sigh, already steeling himself for the answer.

The atmosphere felt grim.  
Not necessarily hopeless, or gloomy, but more in the sense of knowing that they might not see everyone again.

“With me, Team A,” Daichi started, actively avoiding Hinata’s stare.  
“Yamaguchi. Lev. Bokuto. Konoha. Hinata. Kiyoko offered to stay here to take care of Nishinoya, and we can easily fall back to the orphanage if anyone gets injured.”

Hinata let his eyelids fall shut.  
He expected this, but it hit harder than he thought it would.

“Rest of y’all, will be going on a trip with me to pay the Centre a visit,” Kuroo hummed, his gaze resting on Kageyama.  
It wasn’t a challenging stare, or a suspicious one.  
Now, they weren’t friends by any means, but at least they both realised over these few days that the other wasn’t as bad as initially thought.

Mutual respect.

“For the idiots among us, that’d be Kageyama, Yaku, Kenma, Tanaka, Yukie and Kaori. This way, each of the groups have a healer on site, and I urge said healers to really think about your role as a _goddamn healer_ ,” Kuroo said.  
“If you get injured or you die, others might die as a result -- others that you could have saved if you were a bit more careful.”

Kageyama squeezed Hinata’s hand, staring up at the ceiling.  
He felt him nudge into his shoulder.

They’d be separated.

There were multiple reasons Kageyama could think of as to why they decided on that.  
Most likely, priority issues.  
It was pretty clear to everyone what kind of relationship he and Hinata had.

“It’ll be fine,” Kageyama mumbled, “We’ll be fine.”

“You promise?” Hinata asked.

“Sure.”  
“ _What_ \-- That’s too casual, Tobio, we could _die_ \--”

“We could die every day,” Kageyama shrugged, “But this time we have the possibility to die for a good cause.”

“. . . Huh. And since when did you learn motivational speaking. . .” Hinata murmured, curling into Kageyama and pressing a little kiss on his chin.

Everyone had started to mumble to the ones they were closest to, possibly also separated, discussing this whole ordeal.  
But at least they all agreed.  
Everyone unanimously agreed that this was the right course of action.  
They weren’t going to let Shiratorizawa do whatever they wanted.

“We’re on the clock,” Daichi’s voice sounded, “For all we know, Shiratorizawa could be heading for us this very moment. So, get your weapons, and make sure to not kill each other in the process.”

For a little bit, Hinata went with the flow, grabbed his bow and a handful of arrows from his bedroom.  
This was it.  
If Kageyama died, if. . . if they failed. . .

They still had to go visit Yachi again, they planned a trip to their old group’s camp site, their lives together were just starting, and--

He watched Kageyama saunter around, as Daichi handed him his spear and bow, restless.  
He felt just as worried.

Nervousness crawled into Hinata’s stomach like a monster, ever growing.

Kageyama sighed softly.

Hinata flung himself at Kageyama from behind.  
Kageyama nearly fell over.

Dry, parched lips fervently pressed against Hinata’s, and he immediately felt reassurance wash over him.

It wasn’t a goodbye kiss.

It was a promise.  
A promise to come back safely.

Kageyama’s sleek hair was being abused by Hinata’s fingers, as they continued to kiss.  
Wetness, dryness, it made their heartbeats spike.

They parted again, and Hinata could drown in the tender look in Kageyama’s eyes.  
It made him blush, till his ears burned.  
He didn’t want to leave anymore.

“I don’t want to leave anymore,” Hinata whined softly, burying his head into Kageyama’s chest.  
Of course, he was still going to go.  
They had to.  
For the sake of their future.

“. . . Let’s go,” Kageyama muttered, gently pushing Hinata along with him.  
“We’ll be fine. I’ll come back to you.”

And Hinata believed him.

**xxx**

It took them three tries before they found the correct path through the maze of alleyways, Shirabu cursing all the way.  
But then, there it was.

Stepping onto the plaza, in the distance, they saw a gigantic building surrounded by a fence.  
It didn’t take long to deduce that it was Karasuno’s hideout.

They hadn’t been spotted yet.

But they had to have someone notice them.  
They couldn’t just walk in.

Approaching the gate, Semi stuck to Shirabu like glue.  
They had their guns, but they weren’t planning on using it.  
Only if things really went down the drain, and even then. . .

They weren’t even sure if Fukurodani was here.

“If this goes wrong,” Akaashi said, “I. . . You need to know that I’m extremely thankful for the both of you. I’d given up, but you. . . even though I couldn’t even talk properly. . . you still took me with you.”

A thin smile spread across Semi’s face, and he lightly patted Akaashi’s back.  
“We’ve done horrible things to Fukurodani in the past, and escaping with you doesn’t redeem us at all, but. . . It was the least we could do. For real.”

“And if we die here, you better not forget us,” Shirabu added.  
“That would just be rude.”

Akaashi nodded, suppressing a snort.  
“Of course. But I’ll protect you with my own body. They’ll have to shoot me if they want to get you two.”

“. . . Their guard isn’t up to snuff,” Shirabu then said, glancing at the orphanage and the garden around it.  
“How do we get their attention?”

“. . . Should we just yell for them to get the fuck outside?”

“Probably,” Akaashi mumbled, “Shirabu, if you will. My throat is still sore.”

“And my ankle still hurts,” Semi said.

“Your fucking ankle has nothing to do with being unable to yell--” Shirabu hissed, “You just want to see me embarrassed, don’t you?”

Semi laughed, somehow, genuinely, even in this situation.  
“Cut me some slack, this plaza might be our grave. Just. . . Release your inner demons, Shirabu. I know you have a lot of them.”

“Well, you’re right about that last one,” Shirabu sighed, cupping his hands around his mouth.  
He took a deep breath, and. . .

_**“Karasuno! We're here in peace!’** _

Semi started laughing again.  
Probably a side effect of how nervous he felt.

Shirabu hit him, but instantly clung to him.  
Akaashi subtly moved in front of them, as they waited.

“Hands up?”  
“Hands up.”

All three of them rose their arms in the air.

The wait was almost just as deadly as a bullet through the head at this point.

But then, the front door opened, and Semi let a shaky breath escape him.  
He glanced down at Shirabu, who just glared past Akaashi at the building.

Out came the leader of Karasuno, armed with a gun, pointed right at them.  
Stepping out into the garden, he was soon followed by a bald guy, Kuroo, and. . .

“ _Bokuto_ ,” Akaashi breathed, freely letting tears well up, and roll down his face, silently.  
His arms shook, but he kept them up.  
Later.  
He had two former Shiratorizawa members to protect.

The trio watched as their expressions went from confusion, to utter confusion and finally, disbelieving confusion.

Nekoma, Fukurodani and Karasuno, all together.  
Semi’s guess had been right from the very start.

“Why--” Daichi started, but cut off before he could even form a sentence.  
“What’s going on?!”

Akaashi used the back of his hand to rub his tears away, refocusing on the task at hand.  
“I can explain. Please, hear us out first!”

Kuroo made sure Bokuto stayed back, holding him in a tight grip.

Akaashi, thought to be still captured at Shiratorizawa, somehow found Karasuno’s hideout, accompanied by Semi and Shirabu.

Daichi mentioned for Tanaka to stay back, while carefully approaching the gate.  
“What the hell is going on here?” he asked, clearly directed towards Akaashi.  
He kept a close eye on the two former Shiratorizawa members.

“As I’m sure you’ve heard,” Akaashi started, “Tendou had captured me. He isolated me in a cell for weeks, till I reached a point I couldn’t even talk or walk anymore. I was sure I was going to die.”

He glanced back at Semi and Shirabu, who listened in silence.

“Then, Semi and Shirabu saved me and took me with them, as they planned to leave Shiratorizawa. They haven’t had anything to do with Shiratorizawa for the past week. Please,” he pleaded.  
He absolutely did not want Semi or Shirabu to get shot now.  
They had a dream.  
A plan for their future, away from Tokyo.

“Without them I would’ve been dead. They helped me all the way here to get back to Fukurodani. They don’t need anything else, just. . . just let them leave. They’re leaving Tokyo.”

Many minutes passed.  
Quite literally, they could see Daichi thinking about all of this.

“. . . Okay,” Daichi finally said.  
“I see you’re not. . . being forced to say all that. It’s a miracle you’re still alive, and if you don’t want them to die, then. . .”

He nodded, finalizing his decision.  
“Kuroo, don’t you dare shoot them. We’ll let them leave,” he decided, “Nobody’s going to die. Tanaka, open up the gate and let Akaashi in.”

But Akaashi didn’t move.  
“Do you promise nobody of Karasuno, Nekoma or Fukurodani will shoot them, even when I’m out of range?”

Daichi nodded again.  
“I promise. And if, for some reason, someone of us disobeys that command. . . They might just get shot by me,” he threatened, with a glare back at the orphanage behind him.  
He wasn’t going to take any shit from anyone anymore.

With a sigh of relief, Akaashi turned back to Semi and Shirabu, who looked at him with grateful expressions.  
He couldn't help it, he tightly hugged the both of them.

Akaashi wasn’t an affectionate person at all.  
But these two, despite their turbulent group history, had become his comrades on this journey.

He felt them hugging back, although Shirabu did so with some grumbling.

“Thank you, for everything,” Akaashi muttered, and Semi hummed softly.  
“Please, be safe, and take care.”

They broke apart again, and by some miracle, all three of them were smiling.  
Even Shirabu.

The whole situation felt bittersweet.

“Don’t get kidnapped by Tendou again,” Shirabu said, “We’ll be far, far away from Tokyo if you do.”

“And off you go, back to Fukurodani,” Semi added with a grin, “Where you belong.”

“Now our adventure starts,” Shirabu concluded, “Finally, goddamn. C’mon, let’s go.”

Holding out his hand to Semi, the two locked hands.

Though Daichi kept his gun trained on the two -- even though he really didn’t need to -- they all watched as Semi and Shirabu turned their backs towards them, and walked away.

Hand in hand, rounding a corner, they disappeared into the far distance.

**xxx**

“Back again!” Tendou cheered, pushing the cell door close behind him.  
“And I’m going to separate you two, so I can play doctor without interruptions!”

Now, if that didn’t sent shivers down Suga’s spine. . .  
He was afraid.  
He could only guess about the implications.

“What are you planning, you clown?” Tsukishima asked, wildly glaring up at the redhead.  
Despite his lack of glasses, the red blur was definitely noticeable.

“I’m planning some last minute chaos,” Tendou answered, “Ushiwaka and Goshiki just came back, and their wipe of Aobajohsai was successful. Now, they’re preparing to attack Karasuno. . . and Nekoma, and Fukurodani.”

So they already knew of their merge and meeting.  
Figures.

Aobajohsai. . .  
Sure, Suga didn’t harbor any particular good feelings towards the group, but he even now, he didn’t think they deserved to die.  
Oikawa was dead.  
He shouldn’t care, but he did, a little bit.

Oikawa was an asshole, caused multiple deaths over the years, yet. . .

Suga sighed.

“Last minute chaos, huh,” he murmured, “How desperate.”

“You’re not wrong,” Tendou agreed, moving over with a gun -- _oh god, he has a gun now_ \-- nudging towards Tsukishima.  
“It might be over even sooner than I thought.”

With a gun fixed on him, Tsukishima had no choice but to stand up and move towards the door.  
Tendou gracefully opened the heavy cell door again, and ushered Tsukishima outside.

Then Suga was alone.

He felt like pulling out his hair, gritting his teeth and trying anything to escape -- but he didn’t.  
It could result into unnecessary injuries, or, well, death.  
So, instead of acting like a hero, Suga decided the best course of action was accept whatever Tendou was going to do.  
That’s how he was going to survive.  
He hoped Tsukishima would do the same.

He faintly heard the cell next to his fall shut, and Tendou moved back over to peer through the bars at Suga.  
“The blonde somehow really pisses me off, so you’re the one getting to decide.”

“Decide. . . decide what?” Suga weakly asked, not even looking at the man.

“Quick, quick! Left, or right?”

Suga got the feeling it didn’t actually matter what he chose.

“. . . Right,” he replied, for no reason except to just get this over with.

He missed Daichi so much.  
All of Karasuno.  
And Yaku, too.  
He liked Yaku as well.

“My right, or yours?”

_For fuck’s sake._

“My right,” Suga hissed.

And away skipped Tendou again.

He felt so incredibly tired, he just wanted to curl up under a warm blanket, next to Daichi, in the sun.  
But all of that was so far away.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against the wall, ignoring the anxious tickling in his stomach.

“You heard that? Left it is, for you!” Suga heard Tendou tell Tsukishima, glee resonating in his voice.

Cell door opened.  
Cell door closed.

Suga continued to listen.  
He couldn’t do anything else.

“It’s not going to hurt _that_ much, be glad I’m not sawing your arm off or something!”

Toxic anticipation.

Oh, he’s never heard Tsukishima scream before.  
Never.  
Not when they were cornered by Thinkers, not when they were stuck on a collapsed floor.  
Not when he broke his arm, not when Yamaguchi nearly died.

He’d never heard him cry before, either.

It didn’t last long.  
Long enough to strike imminent fear through Suga’s entire body, though.

Crying turned to hollowed sobbing.

He heard Tendou hum through the heartbreaking sobs, as if he was studying something, and the way he called them ‘experiments’ before resurfaced in Suga’s mind.

Tsukishima seemed to be alive, for now, but at what cost?  
Suga didn’t want to find out.

He didn’t cry, not when his cell door opened.

Tendou flashed Suga a real predatory look.  
Hunter, hunted.

His hands were covered in blood.  
Not as much as Suga anticipated, but enough for him to let out a wail.  
That amount of blood, it didn’t look deadly.  
If he got the same treatment, Suga might just survive.

Might.

“Blondie struggled quite a bit in the end, but you seem more docile,” Tendou concluded, tying up Suga’s hands behind his back with a skin-cutting rope.

They were inches away from each other, but Suga and Tsukishima had been stripped clean of any weapons and items, only left in their bare clothing.  
He couldn’t do anything.  
Headbutt, perhaps, but it’d only result into a nosebleed for Tendou at most, and his anger.

“I’d like to survive this encounter,” Suga replied, “And not make this any worse for myself.”

“Oh, smart,” Tendou said, “Because I’m not planning on killing you. I’m not a fan of just offing someone, you see.”

He wiggled his blood-soaked fingers in front of Suga.  
“I’d rather leave this world knowing you’re going to have to live out your lives dealing with what I’m going to do to you.”

Messed up.  
That’s what this man was.  
A monster.

“Your right, is what you chose,” Tendou hummed, “Your right eye. Blink with it while you can.”

“ _No_ ,” Suga whispered in disbelief, unable to contain how afraid he really was, in the end.  
“No, no, wait -- “

“A pair of mirrored deformities! You’ll match with blondie, if that’s any consolation!”

He was going to lose his eye.  
Tsukishima already had lost it, by now.

Sight, his sight, he was going to lose part of his sight.  
He would have to relearn _everything_ , impaired.

He couldn’t help it.  
The mere thought unnerved him.  
He couldn't stop the tears from falling down.

“I don’t --” Suga choked up, abandoning all reason, uncaring for the little pride he thought he’d left.  
“ _Please_ , p-please don’t --”

Tendou clicked his tongue, cold, sticky hands holding Suga in place.  
“I recommend gritting your teeth.”

His stomach tightened, his eyes grew bigger as Tendou’s index finger pushed into the side of his right eye, his thumb on the other side.  
Suga felt the pressure building.  
Then it started to sting.  
He felt it moving against his eyeball, tentatively feeling, a scooping motion.

He couldn’t think he straight anymore.  
His mind went haywire, fight or flight instinct kicking in, but he could no neither.  
His body started to panic, but it could do nothing to stop it.  
It knew what was coming, and it wanted to escape.

It was the raw feeling, the knowledge of his eye being torn out of its socket, that hurt the most.

He felt a muscle string snap, and blood came gushing out from underneath, dripping over his lower eyelashes and down his cheek.

He screamed.  
He yelled.  
He didn’t know what he was saying.  
Shrill, pained.

He couldn’t see a thing.  
He saw red, a dark black.

Liquid dripping down his neck, soaked into his clothing.

He cried, he cried, to nobody.

His hands were cut loose, and Suga collapsed to the ground.  
He couldn’t stop the loud wailing, as he cradled the right side of his face.  
It stung so badly.  
Blood continued to flow and stain his hands, soon pooling.

He didn’t care who could hear him, where he was, who he was, and why.

Suga knew he wasn’t going to die.  
But for a little bit, he wished he would.  
The pain just didn’t match up.

He tasted iron on his tongue.

The stinging continued.

It continued, even after the cell door closed again.  
It continued, when he resigned himself to the cool floor.  
It continued, until two hours had passed.

By then, Suga just stared, with his remaining eye.  
One half of his vision was completely blacked out.  
And it would never come back.

He stared, at the tiny ball on the floor, a few feet away.

His own pupil, lifelessly looking back at him.  
In a small puddle of blood, various strings of veins and muscles idly resting within.

The pain slowly ebbed away, fading, but remaining on the background.  
It made way for a splitting headache.

A passing thought mentioned he was lucky for still being still alive.

He didn’t feel lucky.

**xxx**

Akaashi insisted that he was healthy enough to take part in their plan to take Shiratorizawa down, and after some mild arguing -- nobody could really go against someone who more or less came back to life -- he was assigned to Group A, because Bokuto wouldn’t let go of the man anyway.

Then the hour came.  
Everyone had properly exchanged goodbyes, hopes and whispers.

The gate closed behind them, and all of Karasuno, Nekoma and Fukurodani stood outside, with their weapons in hand and mind set on one goal; tracking down and eliminating Shiratorizawa.

Opposite of each other, stood Daichi and Kuroo, their groups behind them.  
Both had some semblance of a grin on their faces.

“We’ll be meeting you all back here,” Daichi said, “Alive. You better do the same.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t come back without Sugawara and Tsukishima,” Kuroo in turn said, and they rose their fists in the air.

Fist bump.

A sign of union.

Then, Kuroo turned around, and Daichi and his group watched as the other half walked away.  
Hinata watched in silence, Kageyama’s back, his hair swaying in the breeze.

Kageyama didn’t turn back once, because he was certain he and Hinata would live through this.

Nobody had said a word, by the time they approached Aobajohsai’s border.  
They had to travel through partially, a few miles, before they could cut into Shiratorizawa’s territory.  
Kuroo wasn’t too worried about them, though.

The only spike of interest was the faraway sounds of two gunshots, not close enough to be aimed at them.  
Kageyama stopped in his tracks though, looking up at the sky.

He felt his heart clench, for some reason.  
The shots had carried a feeling of finality, and for some reason, Kageyama felt grief.  
He didn’t linger any longer, and quickly hurried after Kuroo, sticking relatively close to him.

“What if all three of them are at the Centre?” Kageyama asked, not expecting an answer.  
Kuroo probably found him annoying, and likely didn’t trust him at all.

“. . . Then we’re pretty fucked,” Kuroo answered, continuing to stride forward, as if he wasn’t touched by the probability at all.  
“We might kill them if we’re lucky, but they have the upper hand, regardless of how many are left in the Centre.”

“They have multiple guns, too,” Kageyama muttered.  
At the moment, their group possessed two out of the four guns the entirety of Karasuno, Nekoma and Fukurodani owned.  
Kuroo had both strapped to his hip.

“. . . But, you know,” Kenma spoke up, walking alongside Kuroo on his other side, “We’re extremely lucky, still, that Semi and Shirabu aren’t with them anymore.”

“We are,” Kuroo nodded, “A true blessing. It bounced up our success rate immensely.”

“We’ll win,” Kenma concluded, with absolute certainty, “We will lose people along the way, but we’ll win.”

“Yeah, I’ll be surprised if the entirety of Karasuno, Nekoma and Fukurodani can’t take on the last three of Shiratorizawa,” Kageyama said, though it didn’t ease his worry.

He rubbed across his own chest, a sign of anxiety.  
He had a bad feeling.  
Not in the way that, everything was going to go wrong, or something unexpected would happen.  
It was a bad feeling in the sense of doubting his own fate at the end of this mission.

An hour later, and they entered into Shiratorizawa territory.  
So far, no sign of anyone.  
Which was preferable, yet, by now everyone stood on high alert.  
They didn’t forget the possibility of being ambushed.

Nothing happened.  
The last block.  
The Tokyo Detention Centre already loomed over them, and now it was time to really discuss a plan of attack.

Kuroo lead them inside an abandoned building, and they blocked it up so no Walker could walk in on them.  
After thoroughly checking the upper floors, they all settled in a circle on the floor.

“Not everyone’s going to go inside,” Kuroo started, “We need one person to be able to run back to Karasuno and report on the result of our mission. They need to be safe, and will not be in any real danger.”

“We have a few basic medical supplies,” Yukie said, tapping the pouch around her waist.  
“Enough bandages to slow down one possibly mortal wound, or enough to bandage two deep, long cuts.”

Kuroo nodded.  
“Okay. Much more we can’t expect. There also has to be someone checking the perimeters around the Centre, just to make sure we can’t be ambushed from outside. Any volunteers for these two positions?”

“I’ll stay here,” Yukie offered, with a nod towards Yaku.  
“Or, if you want to. . . I’d say it’s best for one person with medical knowledge to join up with the people who will infiltrate the Centre, and the other stay here to help with injuries afterward and possibly warn the other group if this fails.”

Yaku hummed, nodding.  
“I agree. Then, I’ll go with the people inside, and you stay here.”

Kuroo clasped his hands together, satisfied.

“I’ll guard the outside,” Tanaka spoke up, surprisingly behaving himself.  
He took this just as serious as anyone else, and Daichi probably lectured him about it beforehand.

“Got it. Kageyama, Yaku, Kenma, Kaori and me will be going in the Centre, then. We have a good idea of the layout of the building, because of Akaashi’s information, and we know which cells they most likely had him in. We can only hope they also used the same ones for Sugawara and Tsukishima.”

“Is the only goal to get them out of there safely, or do we also try and kill whoever of Shiratorizawa’s in there as well?” Kageyama asked.

Kuroo frowned, thinking about that one.  
“. . . Getting them out of there alive -- if they’re still alive -- is our priority. But if they’re locked up, we need keys. And to get the keys, we might have to track down whoever’s with them and interrogate.”

“So regardless,” Kaori sighed, “We’re going to do both.”

Kuroo flashed them all a blinding grin.  
“That’s right. We’ll kill those fuckers, and save Sugawara and Tsukishima. And we’ll get out victorious.”

“Do the thing,” Kenma unenthusiastically demanded.

“You think I won’t do it?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow, the grin not leaving his face.

“It’s pretty embarrassing,” Kenma shrugged, “So perhaps you won’t.”

Yaku seemed to catch on on what they meant, and rolled his eyes.  
It felt weird, without Lev around with them, but he’d be more useful in the open field than on a sneaky rescue mission.

“We're like the blood in our veins. We must flow without stopping. Keep the oxygen moving and your mind working,” Kuroo stated, keeping his eyes locked on Kenma all the way.

“Where’d that come from?” Tanaka blinked in surprise, just like any other non-Nekoma member present.

Kuroo shrugged.  
“Old Nekomata told us it was important, and always used to say it before something life-changing happened. Like a battle, confrontation, or a big change.”

Kageyama looked away when the previous leader was mentioned, but nobody noticed.

“Now that everyone knows what to do,” Kuroo continued, standing up.  
“Let’s successfully complete this mission, and bring back both Sugawara and Tsukishima alive.”

Their faces regained a bit more hope, and Kageyama realised that this was the reason Kuroo became Nekoma’s next leader.

Hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow and chat with me on Instagram [@irusu.u3](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/) where I also do art!


	21. Cul-de-sac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, justice is served.
> 
> Also, waiting is painful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, ladies and gentemen and everyone in-between. . .
> 
> This is the final chapter.
> 
> At the end note, I have prepared for you, an emotional (for me to write) speech and a few surprises!  
> It's gonna be a pretty long end note but oh well.
> 
> The delay of this chapter was caused by a few. . . scenes, I had difficulties with writing, but once I passed it I picked it up again quickly.  
> Please enjoy!

“Lower your guard for a little bit, and you might end up with a bullet in your head.”

Daichi’s harsh but true words echoed in Hinata’s mind.  
Their leader’s current theory was that Ushijima would attack them in Karasuno’s own territory, as he and Bokuto deducted from the way Ushijima previously tried to get rid of Nekoma; picking off their members one by one, in their own territory.

“Every time we turn a corner, they could be right there. Instantly search for a hiding place you can dive into, as to not get shot.”

About that one, Hinata felt pretty confident for himself.  
He was fast, small and agile.

Every now and then, he reached up to check if his bow was still on his back.  
Anxious.

As to be expected, their group wasn’t talkative.  
And that was for the better too, because they’d rather be aware of every alarming noise around them.

They didn’t stray too far from the orphanage itself.  
They made their rounds around the plaza, sometimes cutting through a few alleyways.

An hour passed.

“Hey hey, if they really attacked Aobajohsai, they couldn’t have come out of that completely unscathed, could they?” Bokuto questioned.

“. . . I’d be surprised if nobody of Shiratorizawa got injured,” Akaashi added.

“Still, we can’t count on any to be injured, and it probably doesn’t matter for their aim and ability if they were anyway,” Daichi grimly said.  
“They’re a bunch of monsters, all of them.”

“I still don’t really understand why they’re doing this,” Hinata joined, just to take his mind away from his worry for Kageyama.  
“I feel like they’re just killing us. . . simply because they can.”

“That’s most likely the real reason,” Yamaguchi sighed, “I can’t believe it, almost. Sure, nobody likes this world or these circumstances, but. . .”

“Perhaps Ushijima just wanted to play God,” Hinata said, “Or, I don’t know. . . maybe he feels that this is the right thing to do.”

“How do you mean that?” Lev asked, towering over Hinata, curiously slowly down to walk next to him.

“Well, it’s like. . .”  
Hinata thought about an example.  
“. . . It’s like how Kageyama thought it’d be better to not get involved with me, because in his eyes, I’d be better off not knowing my past. He really did believe that was the best course of action.”

Hinata sighed fondly at the memory of Kageyama holding him so tightly, that first time.

“Of course, I didn’t think so, because it’s unfair to me. He didn’t ask for my opinion at all.”  
He realised he was getting off-topic.  
“What I mean is, that maybe Ushijima’s warped mind thinks that this is the best course of action for all of us. To kill us all, so that, well. . . We don’t have to live on this world anymore.”

A few noises of understanding finally sounded through the people around him.

“Like, so he’s making the choice for us?” Bokuto hummed, “Wow! Maybe it is like that!”

“He can’t make such a choice for us,” Akaashi said, “. . . Like you said, it’d be unfair.”

“. . . But it’s just an idea though, maybe he really is out to just kill us all because he likes to do that,” Hinata concluded, shrugging.  
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

It did pose as an interesting theory, and it left everyone to think about it by themselves.

Half an hour passed, and still, nothing.

Meanwhile at the Tokyo Detention Centre, their plan was in full swing.  
Yukie was stationed inside the house, while the rest of them walked the last street towards Shiratorizawa’s hideout.

Kuroo took the lead, closely followed by Yaku, Kenma, Kaori and Kageyama.  
Passing the fences, Tanaka stayed behind to guard their escape route.

Staying low to the ground, they inched their way closer until no window looking out on them would still have sight on them.  
A large metal door to the side of the enormous building was the entrance they were aiming for.

To nobody’s surprise, it was locked tightly.

“Well, our silent approach is down the drain now,” Kuroo grumbled, rolling back his shoulder.  
“Step back, everyone.”

Yaku raised an eyebrow, looking on extremely amused, for a reason Kageyama would find out seconds later.  
With an alarmingly loud noise, Kuroo kicked open the door -- or, he would, if he’d pulled it off successfully.  
Instead, he grumbled and nearly fell back, the door still standing proudly with only a dent the size of his food imprinted in the metal.

Snickering, Yaku replaced him, and repeated his motion.  
With a, in fact, less loud kick, the doors flew open on impact, the rusted chains previously locking it lying broken on the floor.

“. . . how?” Kageyama couldn’t help but ask.

Proudly, Yaku grinned.  
“Kuroo and his idiot brain didn’t think about the most opportune place to kick a two-sided door open. The correct answer is, right in the middle, where they are connected. However. . .”

Kuroo’s imprint dented in on one side of one of the doors.

“Dumbass,” Yaku cooed, before following a severely disgruntled Kuroo inside.

Despite the serious situation, everyone’s mood was considerably lifted a bit.

Kageyama didn’t know what to expect from the inside of the Tokyo Detention Centre.  
The walls were white, to their right, a stairway lead upwards, it smelled like rotten flesh -- which was probably exactly the cause of the smell too, if Kageyama had to go by Akaashi’s story.

It was empty.

No noise could be heard.

It wasn’t as much frightening as it was unsettling, in Kageyama’s opinion.

“Might be good to station someone near these stairs. . .” Kuroo mumbled, and with a firm nod, Kaori stayed behind, while the remaining ones climbed up higher, to the second floor.

Rows and rows of cell doors, just like Akaashi had said.

Their ears were hyperfocused on any noise, but it just didn’t happen.  
It was silent all throughout.

“Yaku, Kageyama,” Kuroo murmured, “Go up the next stairs. Me and Kenma will check these for Sugawara and Tsukishima.”

He paused, hesitating, before undoing one of the straps holding a gun, and pushed it into Kageyama’s hands.  
“. . . I’m trusting you with this one.”

Pleasantly surprised, Kageyama nodded once, carefully taking the gun.

With another confirming nod from Yaku, he motioned for Kageyama to follow him, sneaking up the stairs, peering around corners and plastered to the wall -- Kageyama was sure they looked ridiculous, but he couldn’t find any reason to laugh.  
Better safe than sorry.

Following what his instinct told him, Kageyama soundlessly flicked off the safety.

“We can assume at least Tendou’s somewhere around,” Yaku mumbled, carefully treading into the hallway.  
“I’ll check inside the cells, you keep an eye out, okay?”

“Got it,” Kageyama replied, rising up from his crouched position, aiming his gun at eyesight, narrowing his eyes in paranoia -- and suspicion.  
He kept his eyes focused at the far end of the hallway, every now and then checking behind.

He wanted to get out of here fast, get back to Hinata, with Suga and Tsukishima safe.

For a while, all was good as Yaku, barely able to reach the steel bars to peek inside the cells, slowly checking them off as empty.

Kageyama just prayed they wouldn’t find the two dead.  
While he didn’t get to know Tsukishima at all, though according to Hinata he wouldn’t like him anyway, he trusted Suga, and found him pleasant to be around.  
He couldn’t imagine going back to Karasuno, to Daichi, with empty hands.

Yaku cursed softly under his breath, sniffing loudly.  
“We should’ve killed off Shiratorizawa years ago.”

“. . . We should’ve all banded together against Shiratorizawa earlier,” Kageyama joined, “With Aobajohsai, we would’ve won.”

“Maybe in a different timeline,” Yaku grimly said, “Maybe we could’ve prevented all this death.”

The cell door closest to them on the right swung open.

Kageyama’s eyes widened, Yaku jumped backwards.  
“Fuck, just kill him on sight!” Yaku hissed, diving low to the ground.

In a red flurry, the man leapt out of the cell, two pistols in either hand.

Killing on sight was easier said than done.

Tendou’s lanky body dove through the air, swirling the pistols around his index fingers once, his lips twisting up in a grin.

He and Kageyama fired at once.

Yaku was out of sight, low to the ground, out of the way of any bullets.  
Tendou had already seen him, but Kageyama was a bigger target.

Blood sizzled past Kageyama’s cheek, gritting his teeth, ignoring the sting.

Thrown off balance slightly, he aimed again.

So many thoughts went through his head, at the sight of Tendou, the one who halved entire groups without lifting a finger, really.

So many thoughts.

It had to end now.  
They couldn’t let Tendou live.  
God knows what he’s done to Suga and Tsukishima, but according to the dried up blood on his hands, it wasn’t anything good.

The last push.

Somehow, he dodged the next bullet Tendou send his way.

Hovering over the trigger, he waited.  
He waited, the moment wasn’t right, yet.  
He’d die if he miscalculated.

Tendou had put some distance between them by now.

“Fucking shoot already!” Kageyama vaguely heard Yaku, but his eyes were glued on Tendou.

His smile was sickening.

Right there.

Clear as day, as if everything slowed down, Kageyama bit down onto his bottom lip harshly, drawing blood.

He pulled the trigger with absolute certainty.

The only sounds now were their breathing.

Yaku slowly rose up from the floor, glaring at Tendou.

The redhead lowered his arms, his guns slipping out of his fingers to the ground, rattling.  
He looked down, alongside his body, at the gaping hole in his chest.  
His eyes connected with Tobio, disregarding Yaku completely.

“In another life, Kageyama Tobio,” Tendou grimaced, “I’ll find you again.”

His teeth were dyed a dark red, seeping past his lips.

Then he fell backwards, his limbs lifeless on the cold floor of the Tokyo Detention Centre.  
Whichever organ Kageyama’s bullet pierced, finally gave up.

“. . . He’s dead,” Yaku stated, scrambling over to Tendou’s body, just to be sure.  
“. . . He’s really dead. You killed him.”

“I killed him,” Kageyama repeated, slowly lowering his gun.

_Tendou's dead._

“Kageyama. . .” Yaku trailed, his eyes widening.

It didn’t hurt as bad as he expected.

Peacefully drifting in the dark, Kageyama didn’t mind it all that much.

Fading in and out of conscious was really annoying, though.  
Because that’s when he felt the pain.

He could feel his own, warm blood spreading across his stomach, quickly cooling down.  
He felt his insides convulsing, trembling, involuntarily.

From what he could remember, he was shot twice.

He probably wouldn’t survive.

Probably.

He wished he would, though.  
Kageyama didn’t want to give up, and he would fight to keep his life.

He thought he opened his eyes, but instead, he wasn’t in the Tokyo Detention Centre anymore.

He was alone.

“Let me live,” he said, to nobody.  
“I need to get back to Hinata. . . Hinata Shouyou.”

As if saying his full name would tell whoever he was talking to to whom he should be returned.

“I promised him,” he added, but sighed after.

If he died, it didn’t matter what he said.

He’d be dead.

**xxx**

At the same time, miles away, Hinata pressed himself up against the wall, peeking around the corner.  
Next to him, Lev did the same.

Every muscle in his body felt tense, as his eyes were glued to one of the windows of a house opposite of the street.

This was not how he thought their showdown with Ushijima would go down like.

For minutes on end now, their whole group scattered and surrounded the house, to ensure they couldn’t escape.

Ushijima and Goshiki were both in there.

They’d been fast, when Daichi spotted Ushijima and Goshiki, they spotted him, too.

Bullets were fired on both sides, but none hit.

And that’s how they found themselves in this predicament.

According to Akaashi, Goshiki was limping.  
They ruled out it being a fake injury, as he had quite literally been in a life-threatening situation for the man -- he wouldn’t fake such a thing, now.

“At least Aobajohsai did something, then,” Lev muttered.

“Yeah, you think Goshiki got injured by Aobajohsai?” Hinata mumbled, licking his lips.  
“. . . It’d make sense.”

“They really just wandered right into Karasuno territory.”  
Lev slumped back against the wall.

A little bit back, Yamaguchi killed an approaching Walker with his bow and arrow, before it could catch anyone off guard.

“They clearly just want to kill us, then,” Hinata concluded, “I don’t care why anymore, they’ve killed so many people. . .”  
He took a deep breath.  
“. . . Ushijima doesn’t deserve redemption, not even as a passing thought.”

There were a few things Daichi could decide on doing.  
They could wait it out, their group had the two of Shiratorizawa trapped.  
They could also initiate a fight themselves, or wait for Shiratorizawa to start one.

But all options had pros and cons, naturally.

This whole ordeal had gone down a lot differently than Daichi expected, though.  
The group had just made their umpteenth round circling the plaza, when they heard a gunshot very, very nearby.

Obviously, they all went and ran to check, only to find a dead Walker in the middle of the street.  
A second gunshot came from a window, and Daichi realised they’d been deliberately lured here.

They all got away unscathed, and watched Goshiki prance around high up, before disappearing and hiding away from their view.

He didn’t think Shiratorizawa would let them know they were here that easily.  
Then again, nothing they did lately made any sense, and Daichi assumed the two knew they weren’t going to survive this battle.

At least an hour had passed with nothing happening.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hinata thought the confrontation with Shiratorizawa would be one where bullets would sizzle past their bodies, barely missing, chaos, screaming, blood --

But it wasn’t.

He preferred in this way, but this silence, this anxious feeling eating away at him, didn’t do wonders for his mentality, either.

The stone under his feet were cold, wet, and his muscles felt sore.

He thought about Kageyama instead.

He wondered if they were done with their mission, yet.  
Killing whoever of Shiratorizawa stayed behind -- which they now know would only be Tendou -- and saving Suga and Stingyshima.

It. . . should be easy, right?

He knew Tendou was dangerous, just as or perhaps even more so than Ushijima himself, but a group of seven people could take anyone on, right?

Kuroo wouldn’t do anything to Kageyama, right?

A gunshot was enough to drag Hinata back out of his head.

It seemed like Ushijima and Goshiki were getting impatient of waiting as well.

Konoha cried out once, holding his shoulder.  
He slumped further down to the ground, out of sight, as Bokuto shot Daichi a look.

It was just waiting until a herd or large group got attracted to the gunshots, and their group would have to leave.

They had to do something fast.

“Hinata!” Daichi called out from across the streets, gesturing for Hinata to get over to his side.  
“We’ll cover you!”

“Be careful,” Lev huffed, patting Hinata’s head once, before slinking further back into their alleyway.

Hinata swallowed.  
What could Daichi find so important to tell him that he had to cross Shiratorizawa’s line of fire for it?

But, he nodded, and Daichi counted down with his fingers in silence, keeping eye contact with Hinata.  
Thumb down, and Hinata sped out of the alleyway.

If there was one thing he was good at, it was being fast.  
He felt his legs burning in protest, but paid more mind to the bullets raking the pavement behind him.  
Counter shots from Daichi and Bokuto were returned, trained on the window up high.

Sliding and nearly falling over, Hinata safely reached the other side, huffing and puffing with the adrenaline flowing through his entire body.

“What-- what is it?” he asked, just as Daichi ceased fire again.  
They did still have to try and save bullets as much as they could.

“This is going nowhere,” Daichi concluded, irritation and exhaustion lacing his voice.  
“We thought up a plan, but since you’d be the core component of that plan, we wanted you here to discuss.”

Hinata should feel scared of that plan, but honestly, he was just as exhausted and if he could end this whole game, he would.

“We can’t lure them out, and we don’t have that much time left,” Yamaguchi continued, nervously fiddling with the string of his bow.  
“So. . . since you’re small and quick, we thought, maybe. . .”

“You want me to sneak in the house they’re in and. . . kill them?” Hinata trailed, a cold shiver running down his spine.  
He remembered the first and last time he killed a fellow human very well.  
“. . . Really?”

“You and me,” Yamaguchi corrected, “We. . . we go around and try and find a window to get inside, and, well. . . yeah.”

Yamaguchi hasn’t killed a person before.  
Many Walkers, but no living humans.

But, Hinata saw a determined gleam in the male’s eyes, as if saying that, he wanted to prove himself by coming along, and this was his chance.  
Maybe because of Tsukishima’s absence.

“We don’t have many other choices, do we?” Hinata muttered, not hiding the fact he wasn’t looking forward to being in one building with two serial killers.

“They absolutely can’t notice you at any point,” Daichi said, “So. . . Be quiet, be quick, be stealthy, and. . . be merciless.”

Oh, neither male would have a problem being merciless.

“Don’t die. We want you both to come back alive,” their leader concluded, and Hinata and Yamaguchi nodded.

With those parting words, they walked further into their current alleyway, leading them to the street behind the building Ushijima and Goshiki were in.  
It was a four-story building, with a flat roof and various windows up high.

“They’re not dumb, they must be anticipating we try and get them from behind, right?” Hinata quietly asked.  
“One of them is probably facing this street.”

“I think so too,” Yamaguchi nodded, clenching his bow tightly to his chest.  
“Since we don’t have guns. . . we really do have to be quiet until they have an arrow through their head. . .”

Hinata peeked around the corner on the empty street, plastered against the wall of the house their enemies were located.  
“There’s a front door, and a large window on this side.”

“Probably barricaded.”  
Instead of looking out into the same street as Hinata, Yamaguchi looked up.  
He tugged Hinata back, and pointed upwards with his index finger.

“ _Oooh_. . .” Hinata cooed softly.

A small, broken window.

“I’ll ask if Daichi can spare a few moments and help us reach it,” Yamaguchi whispered, quickly scurrying back to their leader on the other side.

With his hands on his hip, Hinata glared up at the one opening up high, frowning.  
He jumped with everything he could, trying to see how high he could get.

Around halfway.  
Not high enough.

“Alright, on my back you go,” Daichi grumbled, Yamaguchi trailing after him.  
“And if you ever mention this to Suga, I swear to god. . .”

“We won’t say anything!” Hinata squeaked, climbing on top of Daichi’s shoulders, leaning against the wall for balance.  
His finger tips could reach the window frame, if only --

“I’m going to use you a jumping board,” was the only warning Hinata gave, before bending through his knees carefully.  
He had to concentrate on imagining Daichi’s uneven shoulders as a flat ground, but when he felt confident enough, he launched upwards.

He felt his fingers brush against fine wood, then sharp glass, and he flew for just a moment.  
Tightly gripping around the window frame, he bit his lip to stifle any pained noises he would definitely make, as the glass cut through his fingers.

Gritting his teeth, he carefully lifted himself up, slowly, as to not make a sound.  
For all he knew, Ushijima was standing right in front of him, but he didn’t have the capacity to consider that right now.

One leg he slid over into the building, feeling hard wood underneath him as an indicator of safe ground, before letting his weight drop and fully step inside.

Miniscule cuts decorated his hands, accompanied by a few deeper, larger ones.  
He wished he could hold them under cold water this very instant, as it burned more than he liked to admit.

Finally, he took a look around.  
The window was on the second floor, and lead into a small hallway between larger rooms.  
The walls were stripped bare, a vague yellow.  
Both doors on either side were closed.

Hinata peered back out of the house, down into the alleyway.  
He gave the two a very reassuring, bloody thumbs up.

He watched as Yamaguchi reluctantly also climbed on top of Daichi.  
‘Catch me,’ he mouthed to Hinata, and Hinata nodded.

He scraped past the glass, holding out both his arms towards Yamaguchi.  
He hoped he could hold him.  
Hinata admitted he wasn’t the strongest among Karasuno.

Yamaguchi took a deep breath, licked his bottom lip, and jumped.  
Daichi nearly collapsed after being used as a launching pad twice now, but he was ready to catch Yamaguchi would Hinata not be able to reel him in.

But he did.  
Yamaguchi used his feet to kick off from the wall, and with Hinata constant pulling, he was carefully pulled inside as well.

Hinata’s hands left bloody streaks along Yamaguchi’s arm, but neither minded.  
He wiped sweat off his forehead.

He took out an arrow from his quiver, and readied it on his bow.  
Yamaguchi did the same.

Hinata pointed at the door on the left, and Yamaguchi nodded.  
He tiptoed over, more sliding than walking, leaning down and peeking through the keyhole.

This room would look out on the empty streets without their group hanging around.  
Evidently, there were two large windows, Hinata saw a couch in a corner, and. . .

Staring out onto the street through one of said windows, profile illuminated by the sun, was Goshiki.  
Leaning on the back of a chair.

Hinata saw the clothing around his stomach area was bloody, and he seemed to be leaning towards the right side of his body.

He didn’t look like a serial killer.

Hinata hadn’t thought about it, but of course, nobody could look like a serial killer.  
Maybe he thought Goshiki would have a crazed look in his eyes, covered in scars and, well. . . inhuman.

But he almost seemed tired, drained of energy, serenely looking outside, peaceful.  
A gun rested on his thigh, idly.

Hinata looked back at Yamaguchi, and gave a confirming nod.

They had to kill him.  
He would be the easy one, and even if Ushijima would be notified about Hinata and Yamaguchi’s presence, at least they made it a whole lot easier for their group.

So much more easier.  
Killing Goshiki would guarantee they would win this fight soon.  
With that realisation came a lot of relief, and Hinata found it a bit easier to make peace with the fact they would have to kill his person.

But Hinata knew the burden of killing someone already.  
Yamaguchi didn’t.

“. . . I’ll kill him,” Hinata whispered, barely audible, but he looked Yamaguchi straight in his eyes.  
Yamaguchi seemed taken aback, his eyelashes fluttering down, and he nodded.  
He knew why Hinata said it.  
He knew it was for him.

Hinata left a bloody handprint on the door, as he very slowly turned the knob, and pushed open the door.  
It swung open halfway.

Softly inhaling, Hinata stepped away from the wall, and into the room, alit with sunlight.

He held the string of his bow tightly, aiming for Goshiki’s head.  
He’d rather shoot him in his chest or stomach, but the man was turned away from them, so he had to settle on a smaller target.

Only when Hinata dared take a step closer, Goshiki turned and his eyes widened at the sight of the intruder.  
Hinata swallowed, his gaze intensely focused on Goshiki, searching for any indication of sudden movement.

After the first moment of surprise on Goshiki’s part, he slumped back slightly, defeated.  
He didn’t say a word.  
He turned to look outside again, up into the sky.

God, Hinata wished Goshiki would give anything -- any reason -- for Hinata to kill him, right now.  
Not that murdering so many people and friends wasn’t reason enough, but he just. . .

Hinata just wished that Goshiki showed he cared about his life.  
That he cared he was going to die.

But he didn’t.

The arrow pierced through the room, and stuck into the side of Goshiki’s head.  
He lulled backwards a bit further, eyes closed, arm falling off his lap alongside the chair.  
His pistol fell to the wooden floor with a soft thud.

Yamaguchi had watched, horrified, but convinced this was necessary.  
However sad it may be, these people wiped out many groups in the past, and had been trying to do so again.

They heard multiple gunshots coming from outside, and a couple closer by.  
Ushijima.  
On the same floor as they were right now.

Killing Goshiki did make Hinata feel sad, too.  
After murdering Kindaichi, he hadn’t become desensitized to killing, of course.  
It felt just as impossible to do as before.

He wiped at his eyes, though there were no physical tears.

“Let’s find Ushijima,” Hinata mumbled, as Yamaguchi gently rested his hand on Hinata’s shoulder, to show he was still there, that he did the right thing, they had to, _it was okay._

Hinata wanted to see Kageyama again.  
Press their lips together again, feel his warmth on his skin, again.  
He didn’t know what it was called what they had together, but Hinata just knew, he loved Kageyama.  
He didn’t want to lose him.  
He didn’t want to be away from him, away from his swearing, his irritated sighs, his scowling and his gentle, gentle embraces.

Inching back into the hallway, they left Goshiki behind.  
Now it was Ushijima’s turn.  
Hopefully.

The next door didn’t have a keyhole, so their only option was to gently push it open instead, and hope that, if Ushijima was in there, he wouldn’t notice.

Hinata had never seen Ushijima Wakatoshi before.  
Neither had he ever seen Tendou or Goshiki, but now, seeing the enormous man with his own eyes, it struck a certain fear in him.

This wasn’t the first time he and Ushijima met.  
Hinata didn’t understand it himself, but it didn’t matter.

They would meet again.  
Regardless of what happened now.  
Regardless of whether he or Ushijima dies today.

The one living now would just die another day, later, once.

And it would repeat.

How many times has it already happened?

“. . . Hinata Shouyou, from the concrete,” Ushijima pondered, without turning around.  
He continued to face the street, this time the side their friends and family were keeping an eye on him.

Yamaguchi huffed in confusion, but Hinata paid no mind to him anymore.  
He stepped inside the wide, open room.  
Previously, once, a bedroom.

“How. . . How do you know my name? What do you mean?” Hinata asked.

Ushijima coughed a smoky, gruff cough.  
When he removed the back of his hand, Hinata saw blood.

Ah.  
The leader of Shiratorizawa had fallen ill.  
And it wasn’t a mere cold.

“You already know ‘how’ and ‘what’,” the man replied.  
“. . . This isn’t the first time we’ve met under similar circumstances.”

Of course, Hinata didn’t know _exactly_ what he meant.  
Though Tsukishima liked calling him dumb, Hinata wasn’t, really.  
Not completely at least.

He didn’t know what everything meant, but he did know there was something. . . beyond this life.

The things he collected over the years, the volleyball, the photograph, Kageyama being convinced he knew the people in the centuries old picture --

“We’re here to kill you,” Hinata said, “I don’t care if you had a good reason to do so, which I doubt you had, but you’ve killed so many of our friends. . .”

He swallowed.  
So many.  
And who knows what happened to Suga and Tsukishima.  
They may be added to the list of victims by Shiratorizawa, too.

“I’ll die soon anyway,” Ushijima gestured, finally turning to face the two of Karasuno.  
“It’s fine.”

It’s fine, he said.  
_It’s okay if I die._

“W-why did you kill them?” Yamaguchi managed to ask, the string quivering as he kept his arrow aimed at Ushijima.

“Many reasons,” he answered, “Different ones for each. Pride, hatred, envy, sadness.”

Hinata breathed in and out, not having too much difficulty convincing his brain that, no, Ushijima couldn’t be left alive.  
“You’re not going to explain more, are you?”

“I will not. Next time we meet, our roles will be reversed.”

For some reason, that statement rubbed Hinata’s entire being the wrong way, something mental, sparked, lit ablaze.

For the second time today and for the third time in his entire life, he killed another person.

And that’s how it all ended.

Anticlimactic, Hinata thought, as Yamaguchi lead him down the stairs, pushing aside the bookcase blocking the front door with great difficulty.  
He opened the door, vaguely calling out to their people.

Nobody died, only one person got shot, but not injured deadly.

Shiratorizawa was dead.  
Hinata knew Tendou was, too.  
Kageyama probably killed him, he thought.

Alas, the tears falling from his eyes didn’t have much to do with the act of killing people itself, but more with the realisation that he didn’t feel any regret or guilt afterwards.

Hinata wondered if this hadn’t been too easy.  
After all Shiratorizawa had done, this is how it ended.

Kiyoko welcomed them back with tears in her eyes, having heard the many gunshots.  
To their surprise, Nishinoya stood waiting for them as well, smiling, proudly.

They patched up Konoha, whose shoulder got shot by Ushijima before, not in a life-threatening situation anymore.

Finally, Akaashi, Bokuto and Konoha could talk, talk about everything Akaashi had gone through these past few weeks.  
They would talk, and sometimes cry.

Kuroo hadn’t returned yet, even as the night quickly approached.

Hinata couldn’t sleep, nor could anyone, really.  
Unsettling feelings of doubt and anxiety tensed the air around them.

Both Daichi and Yamaguchi stayed by Hinata’s side as the hours passed, residing in hope together, in silent comfort.  
Lev joined them at some point, waiting for Nekoma, for Yaku, Kuroo and Kenma.

And they waited.

And they waited.

After a day, everyone in the orphanage sat around, to talk once more.

They wouldn’t kill humans anymore.  
Nobody wanted to.  
Nobody needed to.

Everything that happened in the past was behind them, now.

Ideas were put on the table about staying together.  
All three groups.  
Living in one place, not all needing to get along with each other, that would be impossible, but at least taking care of each other and working together.

Nekoma and Fukurodani were only half of what they were in the past, and Bokuto didn’t really have any objections, as long as Daichi agreed.  
Fukurodani would have difficulties surviving if they remained with the five of them -- if Yukie and Kaori were still alive -- only.  
This everlasting truce could only be completed with Kuroo, and so, they continued to wait.

Two days later, Hinata had finally fallen asleep last night, exhausted, in pain.  
Mentally, that is.  
Physically, he was fine.

But waiting was painful.  
Nobody could comfort him like Kageyama could.  
And Kageyama wasn’t back yet.  
Nobody of Kuroo’s group was back yet.

Then, screaming.  
Yelling, and Hinata scampered down the stairs.

Just in time to see Kuroo and Tanaka carrying a body inside, so gently, yet quickly, and placing it on one of the couches in the hearth room.

Hinata thought he died a little, right and then there.

A sight not unknown to him.  
Pale skin, bloodied clothing, completely limp.  
Wrapped in bandages, more than one layer, to stop the external bleeding.

They were followed by a miracle, however.  
Two miracles, if not horrifyingly sad ones.

Supported by Kaori, Kenma and Yukie, they brought along a living, breathing Sugawara Koushi and Tsukishima Kei.  
They had loose, drenched bandages around their heads, each covering one eye, mirrored.

Crying, so much crying.

A few hours later, after a proper meal, and Tsukishima and Suga were able to properly talk and join the others in the hearth room.

“It doesn’t hurt much anymore,” Suga reassured them, “If not for Kageyama and Yaku’s intervention, we would’ve been carved up.”

He showed the light cuts on his arms.  
They weren’t bleeding anymore.  
Tsukishima showed similar markings.

“. . . I’m so glad,” Tsukishima had said, nearly crying, “That I’m back here with Karasuno again.”

Naturally, Yamaguchi wouldn’t leave the blonde alone, insisting on taking care of him alongside Kiyoko.

Yaku, Yukie and Kiyoko all rotated every few hours to take care of Kageyama, under Hinata’s watchful, bloodshot eyes.

He had cried, of course he had.  
The only thing he begged for was for Kageyama to come back safely, so they could hold each other once more.  
He didn’t ask for this pain in his heart.

“Tendou shot him, twice, before Kageyama killed him,” Yaku explained, keeping Hinata company every now and then.  
“He’s been unconscious ever since, but he just kept on breathing, his heart. . . just keeps on beating, somehow.”

Yaku felt guilty.  
He left the Tokyo Detention Centre unscathed, despite being right there alongside Kageyama.

“I wish I could’ve--” Yaku started, but Hinata shook his head.

“Believe me when I say. . . Tobio’s probably glad with this outcome,” Hinata muttered, managing a tiny smile.  
“. . . I know him well enough to understand he feels like he has more or less. . . repented, for what he did to Nekoma so long ago. It’s probably. . . his way, of remorse. . . you know. . .”

Hinata wished he knew Kageyama better.  
But time, time, it was always time, that limited Hinata from doing anything.

Time was precious.  
More so than water, food, shelter.  
It was always time that made Hinata feel regret, guilty, and the ‘what if’s’.

What if Nekoma, Fukurodani, Karasuno and Aobajohsai caught onto Ushijima’s idea of a final statement on this world, and teamed up to wipe Shiratorizawa off the planet?

Then. . . they would have killed Shirabu and Semi, too.

Hinata sometimes listened to Akaashi’s stories as well, and while Akaashi never deemed Shirabu and Semi as good people, he did deem them his friends.

To some degree, nobody would ever recover from these past months.  
They wouldn’t, they couldn’t.

It’s not like they never felt happy, or excited, but the weight of their lost friends would always be there.  
If anyone suddenly burst out in tears, nobody would ask, nobody would wonder, they would just comfort and listen.

It happened a lot.

Tsukishima started having sudden panic attacks, too.  
Yamaguchi and sometimes Kuroo, were always there to ease him out of one.

Then, Nekoma and Fukurodani and Karasuno became one.

There was no need to be seperated anymore.

They began to laugh together, smile together.  
Eat together, hunt together, cry together.

And Hinata waited.

He waited.

Two days later, Kageyama Tobio opened his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this end note seems daunting, but I am glad you are taking the time to read it anyways!
> 
> You guys will never understand the width of my gratefulness to you all.  
> Everyone who left kudos and comments, without you, I would have never finished this story and I would have never continued writing.  
> So, thank you, for reading my first ever fanfiction and sticking with me to the end.
> 
> I have never been able to complete long term projects before, and this fanfiction is the first of such projects I actually finished.  
> In writing fanfiction, I have found a new hobby and passion.
> 
> And yes, I am planning to write many, many more Haikyuu!! fanfics.  
> I have a lot of ideas.  
> This particular fic was 446 pages in my Docs by the way, Arial, font size 12.  
> So much lag, you don't even know ;'(
> 
> With that out of the way, my first surprise for you is. . . this is a series within a series now.  
> Because I am planning to write a few seperate one-shots pertaining to, as example. . .  
> \- SemiShira and their life now  
> \- and maybe more, because if you have anything you'd like to see that I hinted at in this fic or you want to see in this universe, do not be afraid to leave it in the comments!
> 
> My second surprise, is a sliver of hype for the fanfiction I'll be publishing sometime in the future!  
> I hope you all like. . . a Yakuza/Mafia AU!
> 
> With that, I hope you liked this story as much I did writing it.  
> If you want to talk with me personally, shoot me a dm on [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/irusu.u3/), I love to talk to you guys!


End file.
